The Consortium
by CubbiesFan1
Summary: Sequel to Deadly Encounters. The world remains a dark and dangerous place. Can Jonny be saved from the clutches of the mysterious organization named The Consortium? Will Jessie and Race find him before its too late?
1. Chapter 1

" **All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." – Edmund Burke**

 **Chapter 1**

After the fake rescue on the shipping vessel, Jonny's new captors had transported him to another undisclosed location. The conditions of his captivity had improved; where before he had been held in a filthy animal cage, he was now being held in a medium sized army tent. The men that had taken him had yet to expound on why they were holding him, but they had cleaned him up and tended to his previous wounds. Jonny couldn't tell how long he had been with this new group, but he imagined that no matter how long he was missing Race would still be searching for him.

From what little Jonny had seen outside of the tent, he surmised they were in a desert; making escape extremely difficult. The heat was suffocating and even the generator and air conditioner that serviced his makeshift prison tent were working at maximum efficiency. Inside the tent was three green army cots, but only two were occupied; one by Jonny and the other by the other boy, Andrew. Even Andrew's condition was improving. The fact that their captors were taking care to treat the boys and help them regain their strength was alarming to Jonny. These men weren't going to kill them, but that didn't mean their motives were not sinister. Jonny thought back to the man from the helicopter. Just like his new "bodyguard", Jonny knew him. He knew both of them. The one man had mentioned The Consortium shortly before Jonny had lost consciousness. He'd never heard that name before, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Sitting up, Jonny climbed off his cot and went to check on his companion. Andrew was asleep, but his brow was furrowed and he tossed about while mumbling; Jonny imagined the boy was having nightmares again.

He was about to shake the boy, bring him out of his frightened state, when he heard the zipper of the tent's door being pulled. Looking up, he watched as his new "bodyguard" entered along with two other men that Jonny only knew from his previous sessions with the big man.

Studying his adversary, Jonny tried to appear defiant, but the plastic bottle in the man's hand made Jonny shrink backwards. Seeing the young man's reaction, the big man chuckled.

Standing in the middle of the tent, the man appeared larger than he probably was as he loomed over Jonny. He chewed on a toothpick and had a cigarette tucked behind one of his ears. His short, close cropped hair was dark brown and Jonny figured he kept it short as to hide the few bits of grey that he could see sprouting up. He was definitely older, his age probably somewhere between his dad's and Race's, but he was menacing and vicious and his well-toned muscles revealed he was still in tip-top shape.

He wore tan, desert pattern cargo pants, suede combat boots and a tan shirt that hugged his muscled form; Jonny assumed he wore tight shirts in order to make himself look more formidable. He also wore an old style load bearing equipment harness with a pistol holster that currently had some type of handgun tucked inside, a combat knife, and a number of pouches clipped to the belt. His rifle, an older HK G3, was slung across his back.

He cocked his head and the two men strode forward, each grabbing Jonny by an arm, forcing the blonde to kneel.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Jonny pleaded. He knew what was about to happen.

The man chuckled again as he reached into one of his harness pockets and withdrew a small packet. Opening the flap, he poured the contents into the water bottle and shook it up. He never took his eyes off Jonny; dark, hate-filled eyes that held a hint of madness. He shook the bottle, mixing the contents.

The man didn't answer him. Instead he took two long strides and snatched Jonny's chin with his free hand; he was incredibly strong. With just the one hand, Jonny's tormentor pried open his mouth and poured the liquid down the boy's throat then snapped Jonny's jaw shut, forcing him to swallow the liquid. He tossed the empty bottle aside.

The moment the man let go of his jaw Jonny gagged as the other two men dropped his arms. Keeling over, he attempted to expel the repugnant liquid that his tormentor poured down his throat, but his coughing fit did him no good. Groaning he wrapped his arms around his waist and clutched his aching stomach as he began to sweat.

"You'll get used to it, kid." The man watched Jonny's misery, his features devoid of any emotion.

"What do you want from me?" Jonny questioned. He smacked his lips as he spoke the words, the nasty aftertaste sticking to his tongue.

"The sooner you learn to take this like a man the sooner we won't have to restrain you and you can begin your training."

"Training?" Jonny's face twisted in confusion. This was the first he'd heard of any 'training'.

Jonny's captor removed his rifle from his back and crouched down in front of him, resting the rifle across his thighs. Still hunched over, Jonny eyed the weapon and the man grinned. "Just like Bannon taught you, huh? Always resist. You can try and take this from me, but you won't succeed."

"Race will find me." Jonny replied boldly. "And when he finds out about you, he'll fucking kill you."

Jonny's words must have upset the other man. He watched as the grin vanished from his face, replaced with a deep, hateful scowl. "You think I give a damn about Bannon?"

Jonny snorted, "You're scared of him. I can tell. Good. You should be."

"Bannon is nothing."

"He'll find you. Intelligence One will find you."

"Intelligence One can do nothing against The Consortium." Pausing for a moment, his smile returned. "Even if they could, it doesn't matter, Jonny. You see, they aren't looking for you."

"Bullshit." Jonny shot back.

"Bannon isn't looking for you. He got his little girl back and that's all that matters to him. You know, that redhead you love so much? The one that left you in the hands of those traffickers."

"Shut up." Jonny growled.

"She doesn't love you. She's just happy she wasn't sold to some harem like you. She doesn't care about you. And her daddy…Race Bannon…he's given up on you. Your father fired him and sent Intelligence One away."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" The man laughed. "Think about it. Have you ever been missing this long before? Has Race ever let you down before? He's not coming for you. He can't. He has no resources anymore. Quest Enterprises isn't backing him and Capitol Hill has pulled Corbin's funding for your search. They failed to find you and now they've been stripped of their authority and are being investigated for their failures. Intelligence One isn't going to find you because the Agency is about to be defunded and dismantled. And even if that was all a lie, it doesn't matter because, like I said, Intelligence One can't stand against The Consortium. And Race…he's just one man, he can't fight us."

Jonny closed his eyes, fighting to expel the words from his mind. What he was being told, it couldn't be true. Race would never stop looking for him and neither would his father. Even Intelligence One wouldn't give up on Jonny. None of them would…would they?

Jonny lowered his head as another coughing fit assaulted him; his body shaking from the chills brought on by the concoction they were forcing him to drink. Even though he felt cold, he continued to sweat. Not wanting to hear any more of the man's taunts, he decided to change the subject. "What's in that drink? Why does it make me feel like I'm dying?"

"You're not dying." The man twirled his toothpick in his mouth with his tongue. "But the drink is necessary."

"Why?"

"It'll stop your resisting. Once you've accepted your role, you'll no longer need it."

"Mind control doesn't work." Jonny countered, moving to his knees.

"Sure it does," The man laughed. "Just take a look at your comrades here. Even that little kid on the cot over there is slowly succumbing to it. Just accept it, Hotshot."

"Don't you fucking dare call me that." Jonny spat and reached for the man's rifle.

Laughing even louder, the man reached out and smacked Jonny in the side of the head with an open palm, knocking the young Quest off balance and sending him back to floor.

"I said you wouldn't succeed."

"Fuck you, asshole."

"Keep resisting me and I'll give up on you, Quest. Then you'll just end up in _his_ tent. You've seen the way he looks at you. He might try and convince the rest of the board to let him keep you. Is that what you want? To be his little toy?"

Jonny shook his head vigorously.

"Good. Then shut up and do as you're told. The sooner you stop acting like a fucking pussy, the sooner we can start training." Standing the man slung his rifle over his back then in a display of something akin to fatherly love, he gently helped Jonny back to his feet and guided him back to his cot. Jonny climbed wearily into the cot as the man pulled his canteen from his belt and handed it to Jonny. Drinking in long, loud gulps Jonny didn't stop drinking till the canteen was nearly empty.

"Listen to me, Hotshot. Stick with me and I'll make sure you're well taken care of. Remember that."

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"If you know what's best for you, you'll tell us everything you know." Race growled.

It had been over a week since the raid on the plant and having sent Jessie back to Maine with Doctor Quest, Estella, and Hadji, Race returned to D.C. with Corbin and the majority of his Agents. Roberts and a small team stayed behind just long enough to finish cataloging the evidence before packing it up and returning everything to Headquarters. Phil was expecting their return within the next twenty four hours.

Seated across from Race was the prisoner he shot during the raid at the coal processing plant. Arm in a sling, eyes lined with dark bags, and sporting some scruffs of hair on his face, the trafficker did his best to appear hard, but with his hands cuffed and wearing an orange jumpsuit, he only came off as pathetic.

"Why should I tell you anything? You fucking shot me, remember?"

"You're lucky I didn't kill you. I should have after what I saw in that plant. You're the lowest piece of scum on this Earth, selling kids for money. Even your lawyer suggests you tell us what we want to know. You're not getting out of this one, but you can at least help yourself by helping us. No death penalty, reduced sentence and protective custody. Better than the needle or life in Gen Pop at Leavenworth."

Race hated dealing with the scumbag, but he needed the guy to talk.

The trafficker snorted and rolled his eyes. "You can't make deals."

"Look, tough guy, this is how this is going to work. My partner, who happens to be the Director of this Agency, has the authority from the Attorney General's Office to makes these deals, but there's a catch; he only gets to do it once. So you should probably start talking before the guy he's interviewing starts yapping first. And from the looks of that waste of oxygen, I wouldn't be surprised if he's writing out his full confession right now."

Race drummed his fingers on the table as he sat back and stared the trafficker down. He fumed as the man said, "I want to see it in writing. Then I'll talk."

"You don't dictate terms to me, pal." Race countered.

"Then I'll take my chances with the courts."

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"I didn't do anything wrong." The man stammered. Race watched from the observation window as Phil grilled the second prisoner. Due to his cast, only his feet were shackled at the moment. Race knew the man posed no threat to Phil, but they still cuffed his feet just in case. He found it disgustingly ironic that he was watching this man squirm as he must have done to Jessie, Jonny, and the others as he decided which kids he wanted to buy.

It took everything Race had not to burst into the room and beat the man to death.

"You broke my hand." The man cried.

Phil ignored the statement. Instead he placed a hand on the folders he had set out on the table. "Do you know what's in these folders?"

The buyer shook his head adamantly.

"Let me show you." Phil opened the first folder. Inside were scanned copies of the Polaroid photos found at the gas station. In order to preserve the dignity of the captives and not allow the man to enjoy seeing the full photos, only the children's faces were visible, the rest of their bodies had been blacked out. Spreading them out for the man to see, Phil said, "These are the children you purchased."

"No."

Opening another folder, Phil showed his prisoner the crime scene photos of Emily Goss, the two girls from Douglas' house and the two dead boys Race had discovered in the plant. "And these are the children you murdered."

"I didn't murder anyone, I swear."

"That's not what the jury is going to hear." Phil replied coolly, but even through the window Race could tell his friend was tense.

"You can't,"

"I can and I will." Phil shot back. "I have five bodies, a slew of missing children and you. I. Have. You. Who do you think the judge will believe? A Federal Agent or a child rapist? And this is Federal Court too, don't forget that, Mister."

"I killed no one. I raped no one." The man screamed in an annoyingly high pitched whine.

Phil stood, leaning forward he tapped two fingers on the scanned photo of Jessie, drawing the man's attention to it. "You raped her."

"I did not."

"Unsolicited penetration is rape. And she's a minor. She can identify you as the man that violated her. Just because you did it with your fingers and not your little prick doesn't mean it's not rape." Lowering his voice Phil snarled, "I know what you did to her. I know what you forced her to do to you, you sick fucking pervert."

Then Phil straightened his posture, running his hand over his tie. "And I promise you, the moment you set foot in Leavenworth every inmate in there is going to know that you get off by raping kids."

"No, please, I…I…" The man was shaking with fear. Phil knew he had him.

"So talk." Phil gathered up the photos and put them back in the folders as he sat back down.

"I want…"

"I said talk, damnit." Phil growled. "This isn't about what you want. Tell me who bought the other children."

"I don't know." The man replied.

"Then tell me how they're transported from the traffickers to the buyers." Phil pressed.

"I don't know." Tears of fright ran down the man's cheeks.

Phil scoffed at the man's pathetic behavior. "I don't believe you. We traced your purchasing transactions to a financial institution overseas. How do you get the kids over there?"

"I…"

"Don't you dare say you don't know." Phil growled.

Race heard enough. Bursting into the room, he was on the prisoner in seconds, snatching him out of his seat. Phil was on his feet in a flash, startled by Race's sudden entrance. "Race!"

Pinning the man against the wall, Race growled in his face. "Talk right now, you son of a bitch."

"Wha…"

Keeping the man pinned to the wall with an arm across the throat, Race grabbed the man's cast covered hand and slammed it into the wall.

Howling in pain, the man called out, "Help me!" as more tears flowed from terrified eyes and he pissed himself again.

Race didn't care; pressing his arm harder against the man's throat, he saw commotion from the corner of his eye as two Agents appeared in the doorway, but Phil waved them off.

"That girl, the one my colleague showed you, the one you raped, that's my daughter. So you better start talking. Tell us what you know! If you don't, you won't have to worry about getting shanked in the Pen because I'll snap your neck like a fucking twig right now."

To drive his point home, Race let go of the man's cast and curled both hands meticulously around his throat.

Wide eyed, he nodded and croaked, "Okay, okay. I'll tell you what I know."

Race let go and the prisoner crumbled to the floor. Looking at Phil, Race nodded when he saw the approval in Phil's features. It may have been an unorthodox tactic, it was definitely risky, but this man was the weakest of the prisoners and both Race and Corbin knew it.

Walking back towards the door, Race fumed as Phil and one of the other Agents picked the man up and put him back in his seat. Shoulders slumped forward, his head hanging low, cradling his cast, the cretin was completely broken.

"Go find another jumpsuit for him." Phil directed his Agent. Then to the prisoner, he offered. "We'll take you back to your holding cell so you can clean up and change _after_ you've told us everything you know."

Head still low, eyes downcast from shame, the man sniffed and bobbed his head in agreement. "There is a bar called The Spot." He mumbled.

Race closed the door then stood against the wall, staying in the interrogation room.

"Where is this bar?" Phil asked as he sat back down across from the broken and piss soaked prisoner.

"Baltimore." He said.

Race grunted; he hated Baltimore. Phil looked back at him for a brief moment then back at the prisoner. "What happens at this bar?"

"The men that run the docks go there. They are the ones that the traffickers take the merchandise to for shipment."

"Merchandise?" Race sneered.

The man raised his eyes briefly, then lowered his head again. "The children."

"Give me a name." Phil prodded.

"I never met the man in charge of the operation."

Shaking his head, Phil stood and gathered his files. "Not good enough." He said as he looked at the prisoner. "Give me a name or I walk out of here and head straight to the Attorney General's office. You'll be charged with the kidnapping of every one of those kids in the pictures as well as five counts of felony murder."

"Please…" he mumbled.

Phil continued, "You'll be given no consideration because I'll tell the Attorney General that you refused to cooperate. When you're convicted and sentenced, and you will be, you'll be placed in general population. You won't last long enough to make it to your scheduled execution day."

Race watched as the man continued to cry, drool and snot running from his lips and nostrils, a gross little stream that ran down his chin to splatter in the lap of his soiled jumpsuit. No matter what happened, the prisoner was a dead man and he knew it. Finally, he looked between Race and Phil, "The man's name is Benjamin Hanson. He's in charge of the transportation operations on this side of the Atlantic. He's also the leader of a biker gang that runs the docks."

"The teamsters run those docks." Race stated.

The man shook his head and laughed a little. "If you think so."

Phil told the man, "One of my men will take you back to your cell."

He nodded then asked, "What will you tell the Attorney General now?"

Phil stared at the man for a few moments then looked at Race. Turning back Phil set down his files then leaned forward, his hands clenching the edge of the table, staring down the coward that sat before him. "I'll tell him you're a rapist and possibly a murderer. I'll tell him you partook in trafficking in persons, specifically children, as part of an international smuggling operation."

The man's face paled as Phil spoke.

"I'll recommend you receive the harshest sentence possible with no possibility of parole and that you serve your time in general population, no protection."

Race smirked as the man hiccupped from fright.

Phil pointed at Race, "You raped that man's daughter." Then he pointed at himself and added, "And she's my goddaughter. I don't make deals with scum like you."

With that both men left as the prisoner lowered his head to the table and continued to cry.

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"Jessie, honey, do you want to come downstairs? Dinner will be ready soon." Estella spoke as she poked her head into Jessie's room.

The young redhead was perched on her window seat, legs pulled up against her chest, staring blankly out the window. Estella winced at the sullen and haunted look on her daughter's face. They had returned to Maine a little over a week prior, without Jonny and without Race, and Jessie was slowly retreating back into herself.

Quietly entering the room, Estella sat on the edge of the bed, studying her daughter. She saw Jessie was holding the stuffed Belgium lion that Phil had given to her, making her wonder if the little animal had subconsciously become a security blanket for Jessie.

"If you want I can bring you something to eat up here," Estella started. "But I think it would be better if you came down and spent some time with your family."

Jessie sighed heavily as she turned her gaze towards her mother. "I'm not hungry."

"Honey, you need to eat something." Estella spoke softly.

"I said I'm not hungry, mom." Jessie shot back then turned away again, thinking that by looking away she was masking her tears.

Briefly closing her eyes, Estella gathered up a bit of courage. Moving over to the window seat, she sat across from the distraught young woman. A hint of sadness crept into her smile as she nodded at the toy and said, "It was awfully nice of Mister Corbin to think of you while he was gone."

Jessie gave her a strange look. "It's just a stuffed animal."

"But it makes you feel safe."

Jessie huffed and set the lion down. "It can't make me feel safe."

"That's not true, Jess." Estella said. "It reminds you that men like your father and Mister Corbin are out there trying to make the world a safer place. And in doing so, they'll bring Jonny home."

"I really just want to be alone right now." Jessie stated.

"Jessie, I know you are missing Jonny, but your father is out there looking for him as we speak."

"I should be out there looking for him too." Jessie retorted. "Not cooped up in this house doing nothing."

"Let your father and his colleagues do their jobs, honey. You need to focus on your own recovery. You need to talk about what those men did to you." Estella offered sympathetically.

Jessie glared at her mother. "I don't have to talk about it. I don't!"

Sighing, Estella rubbed her hands on her pants then reached to embrace her daughter. Jessie recoiled causing her mother to wince. She didn't want to force Jessie into anything the young woman didn't want to do, but Estella knew the dangers of keeping such feelings bottled up inside.

"Jessie, I'm here for you. You know that. I don't want to see you make the same mistakes I did, that's all."

"Trust me, mom," Jessie spat. "I won't."

Shaking her head slightly, Estella knew the conversation was over. Standing she went to the door then simply said. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

Jessie didn't respond. Giving her daughter one last look, Estella watched as the redhead picked up the lion again and stroked its fluffy mane as she went back to staring towards the cliffs and the lighthouse.

"I love you, Jessie. Please let me help." She whispered, but she kept her voice low and departed.

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"How is she?" Benton asked when he saw the forlorn look on Estella's face as she entered the kitchen.

"Not good." She sighed as she sat at the island next to Hadji. Benton placed a cup of steaming tea in front of her and Estella wrapped her hands around the mug, feeling the warmth on her palms. "She doesn't want to come down to eat and she doesn't want to talk. She just stares out the window."

"Perhaps I should speak with her." Hadji offered.

"Maybe," Estella replied. "But not right now, give her some time. Perhaps later this evening."

"How much of what happened to her and Jonny do you know, Estella?" Benton asked as he sat down across from her.

"Nothing really. Race only told me a little about Jessie's confession to Corbin. Other than that, she hasn't said anything to anyone." Estella sniffed, fighting back tears. "I want to give her time, but the longer she holds it all in, the more it will eat away at her. I know, oh gods, do I know."

"Estella," Benton offered. He was still a mess himself, but he saw the need to help the rest of the family as well and even though he had lashed out against Race, he still considered all of them to be family. It was why he insisted that Estella and Jessie return to Maine with he and Hadji; he couldn't leave them on their own when Race returned to D.C. to continue searching for Jonny. "Maybe she'd feel more comfortable talking to a third party. I know a number of excellent Doctors in the area, in Bangor, and at the University that would be willing to help."

"That's too much for me to ask, Benton." Estella smiled.

Benton shook his head, "Do not even think that money is a concern, Estella. It's not. I'll take care of it. Just let me know and I can make a few calls."

Standing, she nodded. "I will. Thank you, Benton. And thank you for allowing us to come home with you."

"This is your home as much as it is mine. We are family and we need each other's support now to remain strong, for both Jessie and Jonny."

Smiling weakly, she said. "I'm going to go for a walk along the beach before dinner."

"May I come with you?" Hadji asked.

Smiling at the young Sultan, Estella saw the pain etched into his features. He was hurting just as much as everyone else. "I'd like that, Hadji."

"Dinner should be ready in an hour." Benton stated.

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Consumed with reading the buyer's confession, Race didn't hear Corbin's approach until the man was standing in the doorway of his office. Phil had arranged for Race to setup in one of the empty offices down the hall from his own. Race was grateful for the space, but they'd been back for over a week and he already hated being stuck behind a desk, preferring instead to be out in the field, chasing down the leads.

"You know this is the part of the job that sucks, but it's necessary." Phil said as if he could read Race's mind. In fact, the look on Race's face probably gave this thoughts away.

Race shook his head as he gestured at the paper in front of him. "It took every ounce of restraint I had not to kill that sniveling piece of human garbage earlier today."

"Same here." Phil nodded. Smiling at the surprised look Race gave him, Phil said, "I'm bound by my oath and the law, but that doesn't mean I didn't want to strangle that pitiful bastard. But he'll get his, I have no doubt about that."

Leaning back in the leather bound chair, Race sighed and rubbed his hands over his face as Phil took a seat in one of the chairs opposite the desk. "Send me out there, Phil. You go to Baltimore and check out this Hanson guy. Put me on a plane and I'll start running down leads overseas."

Chuckling, Phil replied, "Yeah right. I'll never forget the ass chewing I got the last time I let you use an I-1 jet and scurry off to Bangkok to chase down Jade."

"Hey that was a real mission." Race shook his head, but smiled.

"Sure it was, pal. Chasing tail on the Government's dime under the guise of recovering stolen bioweapons formulas. Remind me how that mission ended again? Because all I remember is standing on the old man's carpet covering for your ass then getting suspended for a week."

"You got a week off and I bought you a beer." Race joked.

"Yeah, the cheap shit." Phil shook his head. "How long do you plan to keep at it tonight?"

"It doesn't feel right taking a break when Jonny's out there somewhere. It's not fair to him or Benton for that matter."

Phil nodded. "Agreed, but you need to get some rest. Terry will be back first thing in the morning with the rest of the evidence from Pennsylvania. He reported that Agent Altine was able to recover some of the corrupted files from the traffickers' servers and workstations. I've got Dugger and Velk looking into this Hanson guy and a team heading out to do recon on the biker bar and the docks. If the lead on Hanson turns out to be true, we'll raid the bar and learn what we can about the transportation piece of this operation. Until we know if the information that little worm that keeps pissing himself gave us is viable, we can't do much more at the moment. After that, you can get on a plane and go get Jonny."

Race nodded, Phil's assessment was correct.

Phil stood. "Come stay at my house tonight; get out of that hotel room for at least one night. Sarah and the girls would love to see you. We'll bring what we have, have something to eat, then look over the evidence again later tonight over a beer. We can work on developing a plan to raid the bar if necessary. Alright?"

Race stood and stretched. "Sold. I'll take your wife's cooking over some grab and go crap any day of the week."

"Good. Gather up your things and let's go."

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Jonny was jolted awake as the rough hands of his guard shook him awake. "Get up."

"What?" He was groggy and his words slurred, one of the main side effects of the drink they'd been forcing down his gullet. When he could think straight, he theorized that whatever was in the mixture not only dulled his senses, but left him so tired and scrambled that he'd have zero chance of actually making a successful escape attempt.

"I said get up. The boss wants to see you."

"Right now? It's the middle of the night."

"Just shut up and do as you're told, damnit." The man grumbled as he put a hand on the back of Jonny's neck and guided the teen out of his own tent through the dry night air and into a much larger and more luxurious tent.

As his eyes readjusted to the eerie light within the tent, Jonny willed his resilient nature to take over as he examined his surroundings. While it was spacious and maintained a cool temperature in the desert night, Jonny felt dread seep into his bones. After his initial shock of his new environment and new set of captors, Jonny had only interacted with his fellow drugged-up captive and his guard, having yet to see the man his guard referred to as "the boss" again; at least until now. What Jonny hadn't yet revealed was that he knew the identity of his guard and the boss already.

A curtain separated the front of the tent from the back and Jonny watched as the lanky, blonde haired man with burn scars on the right side of his neck make a dramatic show as he entered. Even with the old scars, the man's countenance would still be considered handsome by many and Jonny attributed it to reconstructive surgeries. His tastes were more sophisticated than his confederate as his outfit consisted of an elegant dinner jacket worn over a purple silk shirt, dark high priced slacks and expensive Italian shoes. Not really the ideal attire for the desert, but Jonny assumed the man wasn't in the trenches with the rest of his crew. Removing his jacket, he purposely revealed to Jonny that he was armed with a gold plated Desert Eagle .50 AE with what Jonny assumed was the man's family crest emblazoned on the grips.

"Ah, Young Jonathan Quest, forgive me for having you summoned at such a late hour, however I felt it was time to explain to you why you are here."

"I know who you are. Both of you. You realize that, right?" Jonny responded, hoping he didn't sound as scared as he felt.

"Of course you do." The burned man smiled.

"But how? How are you still alive?" Jonny asked. Then turning towards his guard, he asked, "And you? You betrayed Race."

Both men laughed, but the big man replied, "Bannon was always a patriotic sucker. First the SEALs, then Intelligence One. He bought their bullshit hook, line, and sinker. This is where the real excitement and money is."

"You betrayed your friend for money and cheap thrills?" Jonny sneered. "Race admired you, Temple."

"Race was a fool. He couldn't see beyond his own ego to realize that the entire Greenland operation was a setup."

"What?" Jonny was visibly shocked.

"Mister Temple speaks the truth, young Quest." The other man replied.

"So how'd you get burned, Kreed?" Jonny asked, showing the Englishman that he knew his identity as well.

"We had to make it look real." Kreed replied. "However, I did not expect Agent Bannon to be so persistent and for a moment I was actually trapped inside the burning structure. Mister Temple pulled me to safety as your hero, Race Bannon, fled. You see, Jonathan, Mister Temple and I had been working together for years. He'd bring me top secret information on Intelligence One operations and I'd sell those secrets to the highest bidder. We built the foundation for what would become The Consortium."

"You sold out your fellow Agents? How many died to pad your bank account, Temple?" Jonny stated, the words made him feel sick.

"Can it, Hotshot. Get off your high horse."

Kreed interrupted Temple's rant. "We had to make it appear that we both perished so we could continue our operations unhindered by the watchful eyes of I-1 spy satellites."

"Bannon wasn't supposed to make it out to tell the tale." Temple growled.

"You set up your partner to have him killed?"

Temple grunted, but didn't respond directly.

"What about the island? How'd you make it out of there alive?" Jonny asked.

"I'm resourceful," Temple snorted, "more so than Bannon, that's for damn sure."

"Enough about the past," Kreed waved his hand flippantly. "We are here to discuss the future. Your future in particular, Jonathan."

"Don't call me that." Jonny replied.

Kreed smiled, "Before you know it, that bloody attitude of yours will be gone. We have a lot of work to do before they come for you."

"Before who comes for me?"

Kreed clasped his hands behind his back as he moved to stand in front of Jonny. "You really do not understand what's happening, do you?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Mister Temple and I are…how should I say it…suppliers. We take orders and we make deliveries. A number of years ago we realized that while there's always people willing to deal in high priced weaponry, being a mere gun runner had lost its flare."

"So you switched to running people." Jonny guessed. "You're a couple of sick fucks, you know that right?"

"Watch it, smart-mouth." Temple growled and squeezed Jonny's neck tighter.

Kreed wasn't moved by Jonny's insult. "However, while we have many potential buyers for our merchandise we work for The Consortium."

"You keep saying that name as if I should know it." Jonny scoffed.

"You will soon learn just what The Consortium is capable of. You see, Jonathan, some time ago we realized that coming together as one would enable each of us to achieve our goals together. Individuals fighting against the likes of Quest Enterprises and Intelligence One did nothing, got us nowhere. But together…together we've formed an alliance that is too powerful to topple. No one, not your father, nor the U.S. or world Governments will be able to stand in our way now. We will achieve world domination through sheer force."

"You're fucking insane." Jonny sneered.

"I said watch your mouth." Temple growled and smacked Jonny in the back of the head.

"You, along with the others here, will quickly learn your place. Soon enough you'll no longer be resisting the cocktails, you will be taking them willingly." Kreed smiled as Jonny squirmed in Temple's grasp.

"Not likely." Jonny defied.

"They all say that, but you probably are the feistiest young man we've seen as of late. How fortunate for us that one of our suppliers ran across you completely by accident! When I saw you up for bid, I knew I'd stumbled upon a goldmine. Any number of people are willing to pay for the son of Doctor Benton Quest and of course that proved to be true. While The Consortium was interested, we were outbid."

"Outbid?"

Kreed and Temple both laughed viciously. "When I told you we rescued you, I was speaking the truth, Jonathan. You had been sold to an individual buyer…one that enjoys the company of young boys. So, we intercepted your vessel, rescued you and saved all that money by not buying you outright! Like I said before, you should be thanking us, not fighting us. Where was Race Bannon and his band of do-gooder I-1 Agents? They didn't come for you."

"They would have found me eventually. They still will."

"Somehow I doubt that." Kreed sneered.

Jonny glared at Race's old nemesis. "You'll never get away with this."

Kreed made a ticking noise with his tongue. "We have been doing so for years."

"Bannon thinks we're dead." Temple rumbled with a laugh. "His survival in Greenland actually did us a favor when he reported back to I-1 of our demise. Stephens, the Director at the time, closed the case and it never reopened after Corbin took over because he had no reason to look into it. Then when the island was destroyed it solidified my death in the eyes of I-1. In a weird, twisted sort of way, you can thank your own bodyguard for where you find yourself today. If he had taken the time to dig a little deeper he probably would have discovered our plot."

"More like your logic is what's twisted."

"Take the young man back to his tent, Mister Temple. He'll need his rest as his training is about to begin."

Temple grunted, grabbed Jonny by the back of the neck and led him away. Jonny simmered as Kreed's insane laugh followed them out into the silent night.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Race, you ready? Everyone is assembled."

Race turned to see Corbin walking towards him. He had just taken a break to grab a cup of coffee and was heading back to his office when his friend called out to him. Frustration was evident on the Director's face; it was the same frustration the entire organization, including Race and Doctor Quest and the rest of the Quest family had felt since leaving Pennsylvania. Race hoped this new information with the biker gang would prove to be the lead they needed.

Phil motioned passed Race towards the set of double doors. Falling in step with Phil, the two men headed down the passageway to the main operations center. The end of the hallway held another set of double doors. They were thick, with signs that read: **AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. NO UNAUTHORIZED ELECTRONIC DEVICES ALLOWED. PROPER CLEARANCE AND AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED FOR ENTRY.**

Race placed his cell phone in a lockbox along the wall as Phil did the same; however the Director did keep his Classified cell phone. Once their items were secured, Phil swiped his badge through the reader then punched in his designated code; the microchip inside the card combined with the code would authorize entry and the system would log the entrance. As the light on the reader changed from red to green, Race heard the doors unlock and the pair entered the heart of Intelligence One's Global Operations Center.

The doors opened up at the top level of the operations center, a catwalk like landing that overlooked the activity on the floor below. The room was huge, three rows of workstations filled the center of the floor and each row had enough stations for twenty personnel and each workstation served a different purpose. On the far wall from where they entered was banks of flat screen monitors with one gigantic display in the center. Currently the display showed a digitized map of the world and Race knew that the indicators on the map annotated locations of active Agents that were currently working in support of any number of I-1 operations. At times, the display could be changed to show a satellite imagery or even live stream feed from body cameras worn by Agents. The other monitors displayed a mix of maps, data streams of information and one even was currently in a split screen mode broadcasting news programs from around the world.

While the bullpen they had just left was almost deserted as Agents made their way to work or just left from working overnight shifts, the Global Operations Center was the exact opposite. Almost every workstation was occupied as personnel worked fervently on their tasks related to whatever current operation they were assigned. There was a constant buzz that filled the room, a combination of voices and equipment. There was no windows and the lighting was low as compared to the other areas of the building, better to see the displays on the wall and the individual work station monitors. The temperature in the room was slightly cool, but not unpleasant; it was necessary to keep the room at a lower temperature than normal to prevent the overheating of the plethora of equipment throughout the center.

Race knew that at any given time there was at least two dozen active operations I-1 was involved in, either as the lead Agency or in a support role, and each and every one was monitored twenty-four hours a day seven days a week from this room. An Agent in the field was rarely without support from back home; a system that Corbin had incorporated into Intelligence One's mission set once he was promoted to the Director position. Race, having been a part of the very operation that had prompted Phil to develop the plan once he was in charge, supported the concept one-hundred percent. Just like in the military, Intelligence One left no one behind.

Straight ahead stairs led down to the floor while to the right of the entry doors, on the raised platform, was a row of three offices; one for the shift's Head Agent, one served as a conference room for private secured teleconferences, both telephonic and VTC, and the third was Phil's second office. The far end of the walkway had another set of stairs. Entry and exit doors were also located below on the main floor.

Roberts was standing outside of Phil's office, waiting on the duo. When they approached, he reported, "The team is assembled, Sir."

"Good." Phil nodded.

Roberts handed a folder marked Top Secret to each man. Opening it and looking inside, Race scanned the details of their target.

"Thanks, Sharpshooter." Race smiled.

Terry frowned at the name; Race had started calling him 'Sharpshooter' as a term of endearment after the gas station shootout and much to Roberts' initial annoyance the name stuck. Even other Agents within the Agency had started to call him by his new moniker.

"Ugh," Terry rolled his eyes. "Don't call me that." He really didn't mind the name; he actually looked at it like he finally belonged now that Race Bannon had tagged him with the term of endearment. However, he wasn't about to let Bannon know that.

"We can't all have a catchy nickname like mine." Race laughed back at his friend.

"Modesty isn't one of your virtues, Roger." Terry stated.

"Focus, Gentlemen." Phil said as they headed for the conference room, but Race saw the little smile on his friend's face. To Corbin, there was a place for fun and games, but his Global Operations Center was not that place.

Race patted Terry on the shoulder as they entered the secured room. Taking a seat the conference table, Race studied the screen in front of him. It had taken longer than he would have liked, almost another week, but the I-1 team was finally able to track down the biker Benjamin Hanson.

Assembled at the table was a handful of Intelligence One's best Agents. Besides Race, Phil, and Terry, the team included some from the previous operation; Karla Altine, Matt Velk, Peter Dugger, and Eric Brooks. Race knew that the rest of the Agents that assisted in Pennsylvania had been reassigned to other active missions. Already familiar with Phil and Terry, Race had taken the time to learn about the rest of those that Corbin hand selected to continue with the mission and Race knew that every person at the table was fully dedicated to rescuing Jonny. He just hoped that their combined efforts would lead to the young man sooner rather than later; Race couldn't stand the idea that Jonny was out there somewhere, yet Race had no idea where. But he knew, no matter what, the Agents that surrounded him would give everything they had to finding Jonny and bring him home. He'd been too late once and Race vowed not to allow that to happen a second time.

As soon as Phil and Terry sat down Race turned his attention to one of the LED monitors mounted on the wall. The mug shot, the same as the one in the folder, that stared back at him was of a hardened criminal and gang member. At thirty-two years old, Benjamin Hanson had already spent a good portion of his adult life behind bars. When he wasn't locked up, he was busy committing his next set of crimes. A white male, Hanson sported a shaved head, a thick goatee and deep-set eyes. His nose was crooked, probably from being broken in any number of fights and he was marked with face, head, and neck tattoos.

"Another stand up fucking citizen right here." Race said as he waved at the screen. "What do we know?"

Velk spoke up. "It took us some time to track him down because he was holed up in Canada for the last month or so. The RCMP had eyes on him and were getting ready to make their move on him for running drugs across the border."

"I was able to convince the RCMP Commander in Montreal not to make the arrest and allow him to return to U.S. soil so we could have a shot at him." Corbin interjected.

"How'd you manage that?" Race asked.

"It seems that Doctor Quest has quite a few friends north of the border, to include the RCMP Commander himself." Phil said. "So when he heard we needed to bring in Hanson for questioning in relation to Jonny's disappearance he was more than happy to give up his collar."

Race asked his next question. "Where's Hanson now?"

"Back in Maryland." Velk stated. "The biker bar was pretty much shut down while Hanson and his crew rode up north, but now that they are back, it appears they've resumed their criminal operations in Baltimore. From what we can tell, they run the transportation piece of the smuggling operation from The Spot and an office at the east docks."

Phil continued, "The problem with Hanson is that he's no pushover. He'll gladly do time rather than sell out. He's dangerous too. He was arrested five years ago as a suspect in the killings of two FBI agents and three Baltimore cops. They had been held and tortured for days before being shot execution style and their bodies dumped in the Inner Harbor. Unfortunately, nothing stuck because the key witness, one of his own gang members that turned state's evidence, also wound up dead."

"So what do you want to do?" Race asked the Director.

Phil nodded at Velk to continue. "Hanson, like most of these scumbags, has a soft spot for women. In Hanson's case, he likes Hispanic women."

All eyes turned to Karla.

Eyes widening, the newest I-1 Agent found herself at a loss for words. "Sir?" She finally managed to mumble when she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"If we raid the bar and arrest him outright, Hanson won't talk." Race stated. "But we can go in undercover and maybe you, Karla, can get him talking so the moment he says anything incriminating we can move in and take him."

"I've never worked undercover before." She stammered in response.

Terry flushed, "I don't like it, Sir. It's too dangerous."

Everyone in the room knew that Terry and Karla had just started dating and Terry's statement was a testament to his feelings for the woman and his desire to keep her safe. While Roberts spent most of his time as a communications specialist and liaison, spending so many years as Corbin's linguist and driver had exposed the man to the very real dangers of I-1 operations.

Turning to look at Corbin, Karla stated, "I'll do it, Sir. I just need a little…training, I suppose."

"We aren't sending you in alone, Karla." Phil spoke to alleviate both her own apprehensions and Terry's fears.

"I'll be in the bar as well." Race stated.

"What about the rest of us?" Velk asked.

"Using the same intercept software that Hadji employed on the Jaguar Club's security cameras, we'll tap into The Spot's surveillance cameras." Race answered.

"I don't want either of you wired," Corbin stated. "But you can wear inset ear pieces so we can at least talk to you. If we can get Hanson to talk either Race or Karla will give a predetermined signal and the rest of us will move in and secure the scene. We'll be in the surveillance van outside."

"We'll move up to Baltimore here shortly and set up at the La Quinta down the road from the bar." Race explained.

"Brooks," Phil pointed at his man and said, "Head up that way now. Find Hanson and shadow him. If he goes to the bar we move on him tonight. If not, we readjust and hit the office at the docks in a straight out raid. Either way, we're taking one or the other tonight."

"Got it, boss." Brooks, a wiry African American man that previously served as a scout platoon commander in the Marines, stood and headed out.

"There's just one other thing." Race stated after Brooks shut the door. "If I'm going in undercover as a biker, I need a bike." He turned his gaze to Dugger and the Cajun rolled his eyes in response.

"You want a biker, then it should be me going in with Karla, not Bannon." Dugger remarked.

Phil shook his head, "You're still on recovery from that blow to the head you took from the falling concrete during the plant shootout."

Dugger grumbled and pointed at Race. "He got shot!"

Race laughed, he knew the big Cajun wasn't being malicious, he just wanted in on the action.

"Race's gut, surprisingly, is harder than your head." Phil joked. "Let him use your bike, Pete. We don't have any available in the inventory at the moment and it'll take too long to get one from another Agency."

"Fine." Dugger grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Bannon, I swear, if you scratch my girl I'm going to pound that white headed noggin of yours into pulp. God help you if you drop her!"

"Relax, Pete." Race replied. "I'll treat her like a proper lady."

"Let's get to work." Phil announced as he stood. "You two can sweet talk each other when we're done and have Hanson in custody. Race, go make yourself look like a biker while the rest of us gather up the necessary equipment. Be ready to go in an hour."

Everyone nodded and stood and as each team member left, Terry hung back and placed a hand on Karla's arm. Looking around cautiously, he saw that Corbin and Velk were still lingering just outside the room.

Even though they had only been dating a very short time, Karla recognized the look on Terry's face.

She smiled nervously, "No me mires con esa carita. Me pones nerviosa cuando me miras asi."

Terry sighed in frustration, "Como rayos quieres que te vea, Karla. Esto no me gusta para nada. No quiero que lo hagas."

"No te preocupes, no estoy sola," Karla replied trying to appease his fears.

"De toda maneras," he shook his head.

Grabbing his hand, she squeezed gently, "Ahora soy parte de este equipo y si esta es la manera en que puedo ayudar...tu sabes que esto es lo que tengo que hacer para ayudar a Jonny. Por favor, Terry confia en mi. Todo va a salir bien."

"Confio en ti," Terry answered with a smile that appeased her. "Pero todavia me preocupa lo que vas hacer!"

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a peck on the cheek and beamed, "Y por eso estoy perdidamente enamorada de ti."

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A ringing pulled Jessie from her thoughts. Moving from the window seat where she had perched herself almost every day she walked over to her bed and picked up the ringing cell phone. She was receiving a video call from her father.

Putting on her best face, she answered the call as she took the phone back to the window and sat down. "Hi, dad." She said when her father's face appeared on the screen.

"Hey, Ponchita. How are you?"

Jessie saw the concerned look on her father's face and she assumed he could tell she had been crying. Instead of answering truthfully, she simply replied, "I'm okay. Any news on Jonny?"

"We're following a lead right now, hon." Race answered. "Hopefully we'll have more answers later tonight."

"What's the lead?" She asked.

Race shook his head, "Just another scumbag that needs his head knocked in. But I'm hopeful we can squeeze him for some more information."

"Is it dangerous?" Jessie asked. She could see people moving around in the background behind her father and she saw Director Corbin and the big Cajun man, she couldn't remember his name, putting on thin bulletproof vests, the kind police officers wore, over their t-shirts before putting their regular shirts back on. Looking at what she could see of her dad's upper body on the screen, it didn't appear he was wearing any armor.

"Don't worry about that, Ponchita. You know these Agents are the best. I really called because I wanted to see how you've been holding up."

Jessie sighed, "One day at a time." She wished she was with her dad, she needed his love and support. The rest of the family was helping as best as they could, but Jessie had always been her daddy's little girl and she wanted nothing more than to cry into his shoulder while he told her everything would be alright.

"You're strong, Jess, stronger than I've ever been." Race said encouragingly. "I need you to keep being strong, for yourself and for Jonny. Benton and Hadji need your support too. But don't forget that they are there to support you as well, hon."

"I know, dad." Jessie smiled. Just hearing her father's loving words was helping.

"How's your mother?"

Jessie huffed and rolled her eyes. "Smothering."

"Jess, she doing that out of love. You know that." Race offered.

"I know."

"Give her a chance, Jess. She's your mother. She loves you and her behavior is just her way of showing that love. Don't shut her out, sweetheart."

"Okay." Jessie replied sheepishly.

"Promise?" He prodded as he raised an eyebrow at her and shot her a lopsided grin. The look almost made her break down in tears, Jonny used to give her a similar look.

"I promise." She finally answered.

Jessie heard someone in the background call out to her dad, causing him to look over his shoulder and nod. Turning back he said, "I gotta go, Jess. Just know I love you and I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"I love you too, dad." Jessie said then added, "Be safe, all of you, and bring Jonny back to us."

"I will, Ponchita. I promise, I will." Giving her one last smile, he ended the call.

Jessie exhaled while cradling the phone in her hand. She sat there for a few minutes, then decided she needed to get out. She needed some fresh air and the cool ocean breeze and the scent of the salt water always worked to calm her mind. Heading out of her room, she went to find Hadji and see if her other best friend wanted to join her for an evening stroll along the beach.

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"How is he progressing, Mister Temple?"

Kreed was seated at the table in the rear portion of his tent. Twirling the glass that he held loosely in his hand, he sniffed the liquid, then threw the scotch back in one gulp. Temple stood near the divider, watching the Englishman with a look of distaste. Temple considered himself a soldier, a fighter, and he disapproved of Kreed's extravagant lifestyle when they were supposed to be working. However, Lucius Kreed was a man that got results, so the board, and by extension Temple, tolerated his outlandish idiosyncrasies for the good of The Consortium.

"He's ready, Lucius." Temple responded.

"Are you sure? Young Jonathan has given you quite a bit of resistance since we brought him into our little family."

"I said he's ready." Temple responded with a grunt.

"If you say so, Gregory." Kreed answered dismissively.

Before Temple could rebut, the monitor in front of Kreed beeped, indicating an incoming VTC call. From the tone, Temple knew it was the conference call they'd been waiting on. Moving to stand next to his partner, Temple crossed his arms over his chest, puffing up to make his muscles bulge.

Kreed answered the call and a moment later, their faces appeared on the bottom right hand side of the screen, reflected back by the camera imbedded in the monitor. The other three fields of the quad chart were filled with the faces of the other board members.

"Status report, Mister Kreed." The first voice spoke, getting right to the point.

"We are on schedule. The boys are ready to begin their training in the morning." Kreed answered with confidence.

"The Quest boy as well?" The same man asked.

"Of course." Kreed replied with a wave of his hand.

"He's ready." Temple threw in. "I'm training him myself."

"Is that so?" The female in the top left quadrant replied.

"It is," Temple responded, not liking the woman's tone. "And because I'm training him, he stays with me."

Kreed shot the big man a look, they hadn't discussed that.

"What makes you think you get to keep him, Mister Temple?" The first man asked.

"He's mine." Temple replied. "You can have the others. You want me to conduct these upcoming missions? Fine. I will, but I take the Quest kid with me."

"Your little protégé." The man in the bottom left spoke up for the first time. "You aren't much different than Bannon and Intelligence One, are you? Molding these young men and women into efficient operators…killers."

"Watch your tongue, Grimm." Temple shot back as he uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists. "Or else I'll rip it from your disgusting face."

"Silence." The first man barked, causing everyone to flinch, but they all obeyed. "Do not forget who is in charge here."

"We are all equal partners, Sir." Kreed stated. His annoyance with Temple's gruff outburst seeping into his words.

"Perhaps," The first man replied, but then changed the subject. "Mister Temple, you can keep the Quest boy for your first mission, but you are running out of time. We may only have a month before you need to act, six weeks at the most."

"We'll be ready." Temple stated and crossed his arms over his chest again.

"See that you are. As for the rest of you, what do we know about Doctor Quest and the Intelligence One investigation?"

"Quest is broken." The female replied. "He's back home and burying himself in his work. From what we can tell, he hasn't communicated with Race Bannon since they separated after the plant raid."

"And Bannon himself?"

"Working with I-1," The man called Grimm replied. "We are still working to infiltrate the I-1 network so I do not know exactly what they are doing."

"Why can you not break their system?" Kreed questioned.

"This is Intelligence One, Lucius. It's not that easy to hack that system. It takes time and if you want the most accurate information, then I have to hack into the Director's database. Corbin's system is the most protected within the Agency. That man has files on every active operation that I-1 is working, not just the search for Jonny Quest. If I can hack into it, we can effectively cripple the Agency. We don't have to kill Director Corbin, we can effectively eliminate him if we breach his system and leak his secrets."

"Where's the fun in that?" Temple huffed, his hatred for his former colleagues was well known amongst the board. "I'd rather put a bullet in that man's head. Him and Bannon both."

Grimm made a grunting sound in response to Temple.

"What?" Temple asked when he heard the man's response. "I kind of figured you'd like to do the same, Grimm."

"You will do no such thing, either of you." The woman ordered. "You kill either of those two men prematurely and the entire U.S. Government will hunt us down like animals. Be patient and wait for the right opportunity."

"Enough." The first man interrupted. "This conversation has gone on too long. Keep working the I-1 breach and do not go after Doctor Quest, Bannon or Corbin at this time. Mister Temple, be ready for your next assignment. We will speak again at the next conference."

With that, the connection ended.

Temple snorted as he headed towards the divider, he was in no mood to stay and continue to speak with Kreed. But when the Englishman spoke, Temple stopped.

"That was quite brazen, Mister Temple. You should tread carefully."

"Why? Because some faces on a computer monitor tell me to? Get real, Kreed. We don't need them, we never did."

"Without them The Consortium would crumble."

Temple huffed, he knew Kreed was right. Smiling at the American, Kreed added, "Just relax and concentrate on the training and then the next mission."

"Do you know what it is yet?"

Kreed shook his head, "No, but we will be informed soon enough. In the meantime, I have a number of important calls to make this evening."

Temple scowled as Kreed turned his back, effectively dismissing Greg. With a grunt, Temple brushed the divider aside and headed through the far side of the tent and out into the dry, yet still hot night.

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"How's you dad doing, Hadj?" Jessie asked as the two friends sat upon the cliffs, overlooking the sea, the sun making its final descend at their backs.

"He is making due as best he can, Jessie." Hadji answered.

Taking his hand in hers, Jessie gave it a comforting squeeze. "I should speak with him. I've been so consumed with my own feelings that I've forgotten how much everyone has been affected by all of this."

"Your own feelings are important as well," Hadji replied. "You should not keep them bottled up inside. You know you can speak to me about anything, Jessie, anything."

Jessie sighed, Hadji's logic always helped to settle her scattered thoughts. "I know, Hadji. I just don't know if I'm ready to discuss what happened. It's still too real, too raw," lowering her voice she added, "and painful."

"I do not know what those men did to you or my brother, but know that I will never judge you for what happened."

Jessie turned her gaze towards him and she saw the truth in his deep, brown eyes. "Thank you, Hadji." She breathed.

"Of course, that is what friends are for." Hadji patted her hand gently.

Jessie shook her head, "No, Hadji, that's what family is for."

Smiling, Hadji nodded. They let the silence take over as the sun warmed their backs. After a long interlude, Hadji asked, "So did you speak to your father today?"

Jessie smiled inwardly, how did Hadji always know? "I did."

"No progress I assume since my father hasn't heard anything."

"Dad and some other Agents are working on a lead. From what I could tell, they were preparing for a raid or some type of operation. He sounded hopeful that they could get some answers. You know Hadji, I really never stopped to think about the dangers that seem to consume our lives. At least not until those dangers are thrown right in our faces. I have no idea where Jonny is and what he's going through. And now my dad is back to his old ways and hunting down the bad guys. Watching it from the outside it all feels so surreal."

"Your father is the best. You know that."

"I know." Jessie smiled, the Bannon pride, the pride she thought the traffickers had robbed her of, was returning.

"But for all the dangers and excitements, I sometimes wish for a normal life." Jessie confessed after a brief pause. "I told Jonny as much before this whole thing happened. I want him back so bad so we can have that normal life together. So we can go someplace where no one knows the names Quest or Bannon."

"Jonny will come back to us, Jessie." Hadji spoke, his tone reassuring. "You have not lost him. He is my brother. I know him and I know he is out there and no matter what he's going through he will always fight. He will always do what he must to return to us, Jessie. I have no doubt about that."

"Agreed." Jessie breathed.

"We should head back inside soon. I heard your mother say something about making your favorite dish for dinner tonight."

"Pollo con Salsa de Champinones?" Jessie's voice beamed.

"Yes, I think that is what she called it."

"Let's head in then. It's amazing, you'll love it." Jessie stood as Hadji did the same.

Heading back towards the house, Hadji was happy to see the small spark of life return to friend's steps. He only hoped that it wasn't temporary.

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" _Jess, don't go." Jonny reached for his redheaded goddess as the guards snatched her out of his arms._

 _Lunging forward, Jonny felt the butt stock of one of the guard's rifles smack into this side of his head._

" _Back off." The man growled as a pained cry escaped Jonny's lips._

 _Eyes filled with tears, Jonny looked up at Jessie as the guards pulled her away; her face was blank, she displayed no emotion at all. "Ace, no," He cried as he reached for her again and was quickly struck in the face a second time._

" _I'm sorry, Jonny." Jessie spoke. Her voice was hollow and flat. "I have to go. I have to go."_

" _Don't leave me, Ace." Jonny whimpered._

" _I have to go." Jessie replied._

 _Jonny blinked and she was gone. The guard raised his rifle at Jonny and fired._

Jonny shot up like a dart from his cot. His heart was pounding and he placed a hand on his chest, feeling the telltale sign that he was still alive.

"It was just a dream." He mumbled. Placing a hand to his head, he would have sworn that he felt a dull throbbing from the guard's butt stock still lingering, even after he was awake.

"The same one as before? Where your love abandons you?"

Whipping his head around, he saw Temple next to him. He was seated in a portable folding chair, staring at Jonny while chewing on his toothpick. If Jonny didn't know better he'd have sworn the man was watching over him as he slept. Eyes narrowing, he studied the traitorous Agent's mannerisms and for a moment, just a moment, Jonny thought he saw a hint of sorrow in the man's features.

"None of your business." Jonny said, but his voice was weak and he didn't have the energy to fight at the moment.

Temple shrugged and Jonny saw the bottle in his hands. Temple caught the look of fear in Jonny's eyes as the blonde turned his head away.

"You have to drink it, Jonny." Temple said as he began his routine of filling the bottle with the powdery substance.

Jonny shook his head as Temple shook the bottle. "I told you this would be easier if you stop resisting."

"I'll never stop resisting."

Temple sighed, remembering the words of the other board members on the VTC. He was running out of time to convert Jonny before he had to leave. Temple refused to leave the Quest boy in the hands of Lucius Kreed, but if Jonny continued to fight him, Temple would have no choice. He made his decision, he'd have to up his game.

Snatching Jonny by the throat, Temple growled, "Open your mouth or I'll crush your throat."

"You wouldn't." Jonny croaked as he felt Temple tighten his grip.

"I'm losing my patience with you, Hotshot. I can kill you at any moment and all that will happen to me is some harsh words slung my way by the rest of the board. You, however, you'll be dead. So do as you're told, damnit."

Jonny's eyes bulged as Temple squeezed harder. Finally, he nodded swiftly, causing the big man to release him. Jonny gulped for air as his hands wandered up to touch his sore neck.

"Drink it." Temple held out the bottle of water. "Drink it on your own."

Jonny eyed his abuser as he continued to inhale deep breaths. Finally, he shook his head and said, "No."

"So be it." Temple growled. In a flash he was on the rebellious youth again and with one meaty hand around his throat he pinned Jonny to the cot. Temple's fingers dug into the boy's neck and jaw and eventually the pain and lack of air forced Jonny to open his mouth. When he did, Temple poured the liquid into Jonny's throat and after quickly discarding the bottle after it was empty, held Jonny's mouth shut so the boy would be forced to drink.

When he finally swallowed the pasty flavored cocktail, Temple released him. Standing back up, he watched as Jonny's body reacted to the substances within the powder. He just hoped that the side effects wouldn't be too severe; he had tripled to dosage in order to expedite Jonny's transformation.

"You're a fucking lunatic and a coward." Jonny finally spat when he was able to speak.

"I'm all you have now, Hotshot."

"Stop calling me that."

"No one is coming for you, Hotshot. Not your father, not Bannon, and especially not that prissy little redhead you love so much."

"They'll come. And when they do, you'll regret it, Temple."

"I told you before, Jonny, she left you. That's what they do." Temple responded.

Jonny paused. "That's what who do?"

"Women." Temple huffed. "They use you, tell you they love you, but once they get what they want they rip your fucking heart out and leave you for the wolves."

"Maybe women you've been with, but not Jessie. She's not like that." Jonny retorted. "We love each other."

Temple laughed. "The sooner you learn that love is nothing but bullshit you'll understand what I'm telling you, kid. Think about it, Jonny, really think about it. If she loved you, would she have left you?"

"She had no choice."

Temple shook his head as he sighed. "Stop making excuses for her and realize that she did make a choice and that choice was her safety over yours. Forget about her, forget about all of them, to include your father. I'm your family now, Hotshot. I'm the one that's looking after you, protecting you. Not Jessie Bannon and sure as shit not her father or yours."

"I don't believe a word you're saying. I never will." Jonny retorted, but his voice wavered with just a shred of doubt.

"You think that old man of yours can save you?" Temple sneered. "He couldn't even protect his wife, your mother."

"What do you know about that?" Jonny asked; he hadn't thought about his mother's death in a long time.

Temple smirked. "I know exactly what happened. I know how your mother died, Hotshot. I read the reports. I saw the evidence, the crime scene photos. I read the statements given by your father and the Intelligence One Agents that blew the mission and got her killed."

"Was…was Race involved?" Jonny asked cautiously.

Temple saw an opportunity. He smiled and said, "Of course he was. I don't think your old man knows though. Why do you think Bannon was assigned to protect you? It was his penance. Having to protect the family of the woman that he got killed. Ha! Corbin punished Bannon good for that little fuck up."

Jonny shook his head. He didn't want to believe, but the way Temple spoke…could it really be true?

"You see, Jonny, your father worked for an organization that thrives on secrets. Secrets and lies. You really think the Agency would tell you the truth? You think they actually care about you? About your dad? Come on, kid, think about it. I-1 doesn't give a shit about you, hell the higher ups don't even care about their own Agents; everyone is expendable…everyone except Doctor Quest. They'd do anything to keep him on the Government's payroll. They don't care about his well-being; only that he keeps producing under the contracts given to him. You think Race cares about you? He's nothing but hired muscle. And his buddy, Phil Corbin, he plays the political game as well as any suit on the Hill. Their agenda has nothing to do with the well-being of the Quests. All they care about is results. That's it."

"I…" Jonny was at a loss for words.

"Think about what I've said. Think back and remember. You'll see that what I'm telling you is the truth. Because here's the thing, Hotshot. I won't lie to you. I got out when I saw the truth. The Consortium knows the truth and The Consortium will take care of you, just like they've taken care of me. Remember that if and when you ever see Bannon or that redheaded daughter of his again. Remember who killed your mother. It wasn't me, Jonny, it was Race."

Temple stood. "Remember that."

Jonny stared at the man, but he had no words left to combat Temple's statement. He didn't know what to think anymore. He lowered his head so Temple wouldn't see the tears, but who or what Jonny was crying for, he wasn't entirely sure. A few moments later, he felt Temple's strong hand on the top of his head. He gave Jonny a few comforting pats, then turned and left. Jonny raised his eyes, watching the man's back as he left, wondering why Temple was so cruel to him one moment then comforting and understanding the next. It perplexed Jonny, but he began to wonder, perhaps what Temple was saying was actually true.

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 **To Be Continued...**

 **Author's Note:** Thank you to ForeverWells for the translation of the dialogue between Terry and Karla. I couldn't have done it and make it real without you!

Here is the English translated version:

"Don't look at me with that face. You make me nervous when you look at me that way."

"How the hell else do you want me to see you, Karla. I don't like this at all. I don't want you to do it."

"Don't worry, I'm not alone."

"Sitll," he shook his head.

"I'm part of this team now. And if this is the way I can contribute...you know that this is what I have to do to help Jonny. Please Terry, trust me. Everything will be alright."

"I trust you," Terry answered with a small smile that appeased her, "But I'm still worried about what you'll be doing!"

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a peck on the cheek and beamed, "And that's why I'm head over heels for you!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You know, I'm only letting you use my ride because I like you, Bannon." Dugger grumbled. "You do know how to ride, right?"

Outside the hotel, the group was gathered around Pete's customized Harley motorcycle. The soft tail model rode low and sported sleek black paint with airbrushed patriotic designs, after market handle bars, a low profile solo seat, a fat oversized rear tire with custom wheels, and chrome foot and highway pegs. Overall, Dugger's bike was low, fat, and mean and he huffed like an overgrown child when he handed over the keys to Race.

Race laughed. "Yeah, Pete. I can ride." Race was dressed in faded jeans, ripped in a few places and frayed at the bottoms, heavy black boots, a dark t-shirt and leather jacket. Attached to his belt was a chain connected to the wallet he had tucked in his back pocket and his concealed carry holster where he kept his HK USP Compact hidden, but ready to draw at a moment's notice.

Given their time constraints, Race felt he had done a pretty decent job in tailoring himself to look like a take-no-shit biker. He'd even found a bit of time after arriving in Baltimore for some body weight workouts and he had engaged in a quick tussle with Velk and Dugger in the hotel room, much to Corbin's dismay since he'd used his Government credit card to secure the room, which resulted in a few scrapes and bruises; just what Race needed. He definitely carried himself with the _'don't fuck with me'_ attitude as he examined Dugger's bike then swung his leg over the seat to straddle the American made machine.

"You know the plan, Race." Corbin stated. "Just blend in and watch Altine's back. The rest of us will be in the surveillance van."

"I got it, Phil." Race nodded, strapping the brain bucket helmet to his head and putting on a pair of sunglasses.

"Karla will make contact with the target, so just watch and listen. See if anyone shows a little too much interest in either of them and see if you can tag all of the target's associates." Phil spoke.

Race shook his head at Phil's official demeanor. The man was like a brother to Race, but when Phil's mood turned serious there wasn't much that could make the Director lighten up.

"Phil, I got this. It'll be like being back in KC or Chicago, man. You have any idea how many seedy strip clubs and biker bars I had to case back in those days?" Race cracked a smile at Corbin and Dugger chuckled. "What's the latest from Brooks and the team at the docks?"

Per Race's suggestion, they had sent Agent Brooks, along with a few officers from the Maryland State Police to the docks to recon Hanson's office.

"All quiet." Phil replied. "No activity at all at the moment, but they'll remain on site until told otherwise. If Hanson has people there, we can't risk him getting word to them if he sniffs us out over here."

Race nodded, "Let's hope he doesn't have that opportunity. I'll do what I have to and step in if I see him making any suspicious moves. Just watch my ass, guys. I got Karla, but if the shit hits the fan and I need you guys…"

"You know we got your back, Bannon." Pete said. "That's as long as you don't fuck up my bike."

Race smirked as Velk and Roberts arrived. "Karla is in route to the bar. We have the tracking device in her car pinging on the display in the van." Terry stated.

Race could see the nervousness in the other man's face. Terry and Karla were dating and they both really seemed to like each other, so it was hard for Roberts to see his girlfriend going undercover into a place like The Spot to apprehend a man with a rap sheet over a mile long.

The bike roared to life as Race started it up. Feeling the heavy vibrations shaking through his body gave him a thrill and he started to think that perhaps he'd look into getting a hog himself after the mission to save Jonny was over.

Revving the throttle, Race and Dugger both grinned as Phil just watched. Race could tell Corbin was indifferent to the excitement of motorcycle riding.

As they all turned to go to the van, Race shouted over the engine, "Hey, Sharpshooter."

Roberts looked back at him and Race jerked his head, motioning for Roberts to come over. When he did, he leaned close so Race didn't have to shout too loudly over the custom exhaust system.

"Don't worry, Terry. I've got her." Race reassured his friend. "I won't let anything happen to her."

Terry nodded and a heavy weight appeared to leave his body when he heard Race's words. Race knew Roberts would still worry, but he also knew that the encouraging words of a friend could do a lot to alleviate the concern for his girlfriend's safety.

"Thanks, Race. I know you do."

"We're a team, brother." Race remarked. "All of us and that includes you and Karla. Pete, Phil, Matt, Eric, me…you two…you know we all have each other's backs."

"I know we do. Thanks." Terry smiled. Extending his arm he clamped his hand on Race's outstretched forearm.

Race nodded then let go of Roberts. "Now step back. I'm about to give Pete a goddamn heart attack."

Roberts laughed and moved back to the van where the other men were waiting. Race watched and when he saw his friends looking in his direction, he depressed the brake lever and gunned the throttle. Keeping his feet firmly planted, he used his strength to hold the heavy bike in place as he spun the fat, rear tire causing it to smoke and burn.

"Bannon, you asshole!" The Cajun shouted as he watched Race perform the burnout with Dugger's bike. The other three Agents laughed as Dugger turned beat red.

As the air in the parking lot filled with smoke and the smell of burning rubber, they watched as Race kicked the bike into gear and headed out, pulling out onto the road and off in the direction of The Spot.

As the sight of Race disappeared, the men could still hear the bike as it receded into the distance. "Come on, guys," Corbin said as he and Roberts got into the back of the van and Dugger and Velk got in the front. "Let's go get this son of a bitch."

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Heart pounding, legs on fire, Jonny ran. Taking a chance to look back over his shoulder, he saw Temple behind him, keeping pace. Frowning, Jonny pushed himself harder, attempting to leave the older and heavier man behind. Spying a wadi ahead, Jonny focused and made his way up the small rise, sliding down into the dried up river bed on the other side.

His heart dropped as a tan jeep sat waiting for him. Seated in the driver's seat was Andrew and Kreed stood next to the door, smiling at Jonny while aiming his Desert Eagle directly at the blonde's face.

Skidding to a stop, Jonny bent over, placing his hands on his knees as he worked to catch his breath. A moment later Temple was at his side.

"A valiant effort, Jonathan." Kreed holstered his weapon then clapped dramatically. Looking at Temple, he added, "The young man was about to leave you in the dust."

Temple grunted between heaving breaths, "I would have caught him eventually."

Kreed used a handkerchief to blot the beats of sweat from his forehead as he chuckled at his partner.

"I do not know where you thought you'd go, Jonathan." Kreed laughed. "We are in the middle of the desert."

"I had to try." Jonny sneered as he felt Temple's sweaty palm grasp his shoulder.

"You're with us now, Hotshot. I keep telling you that. You can't survive out here on your own."

Jonny remained silent. Looking at the boy in the driver's seat, Jonny felt a lump in his stomach as Andrew stared back at him with vacant eyes. Temple's concoction had transformed the boy into a mindless drone. Even with the doubt that clouded his mind, Jonny had to resist. He just couldn't bring himself to accept that everything Temple told him was true. Jonny refused to believe that his entire life had been a lie.

Reaching into the back of the jeep, Kreed withdrew a plain manila envelope. "I received these from our associate Mister Grimm. I think you'll find them most intriguing, Jonathan."

Jonny didn't know who Kreed was talking about, but something in Kreed's evil grin told the young Quest that whatever was in the envelope was not good. He watched as Kreed withdrew a number of prints, glanced through them while shaking his head. "I so hate to be the one to break this to you. I know Mister Temple has tried to make you see the truth about your family, about your young lover Jessica Bannon, but it appears that you must be shown."

Kreed held the photos out for Jonny. Forced to step forward by Temple, Jonny reluctantly took the prints. As soon as he saw them, his heart dropped. The photos were black and white images of Jessie and Hadji, holding hands, sitting next to each other on the cliffs of his father's property, smiling into each other's face.

"What is this?" Jonny asked as his mind raced.

"I told you, Hotshot. I told you she'd rip your fucking heart out." Temple snickered. "But to do it so quickly and end up with your own brother? That's cold even by my standards."

Jonny shook his head, he couldn't believe it; he wouldn't. "They're just friends. He's probably comforting her."

"Do the looks on their faces make them appear that they are just friends?" Kreed taunted. "How about the hand holding? Please, Jonathan, stop lying to yourself."

"No…" He mumbled, unable to tear his eyes from the pictures.

"Think about it, Jonathan," Kreed continued. "Think back to all those adventures you would partake in, think about the times your love seemed more interested in Hadji and what he was doing rather than you; the quick glances and subtle smiles they would exchange. Perhaps now that you are gone, they've finally decided to take _their_ relationship to the next level. I mean, while you are the son of the infamous Doctor Quest, Hadji Singh is a Sultan! Did you really think you'd ever be able to compete with that?"

Lightheaded, knees wobbling, Jonny assimilated the information, the evidence. "How…how could they do this to me?"

Temple shot Kreed a quick glance, saw the sly smile on the Englishmen face, then nodded.

"I told you, kid," Temple said as he loosened his hold on the boy. "I told you she'd rip your fucking heart out. But we won't do that to you. Stick with us, Jonny, we'll ensure they never hurt you again."

Reaching into the back of the jeep Kreed reached into a cooler and withdrew a water bottle. Cracking it open he looked at Temple. The former Agent, still sweating, but breathing normally again, reached into a pocket and pulled out one of the powder packets. Dropping the photos to the sand, Jonny took the bottle from Kreed as Temple handed him the packet. Smiling, both men watched Jonny pour the packet into his water, shake it up, then down the entire contents of the bottle.

When he was done, Temple placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "Let's head back so you can clean up. Take a little time to get your feet back under you, okay?"

Jonny nodded as the hurt on his face was replaced by anger. He simply replied, "Alright."

Kreed gathered up the photos then all three climbed into the jeep as Andrew started it back up and spun the vehicle around, heading back to the base.

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Frowning, Race stepped inside the dark, smoky atmosphere of the biker bar called The Spot. A few heads turned in his direction, but his rough look caused the other patrons to return to their own business.

As his eyes adjusted, he caught sight of Karla Altine. The woman was perched on a stool at the bar. Her dark, wavy hair was down and she wore tight jeans and a blouse that hugged her curves, showing just enough of her assets to draw the attention of the men around her. She was nursing a mixed drink, casually swirling the cubes in the glass. Her purse was on the bar top next to her, Race knew she had a compact pistol tucked away inside. Overall, the woman was radiant and was quite nice to look at amongst the crowd of burly bikers and other patrons. Race just hoped that her presence, along with his, didn't arouse suspicion; while the bar definitely seemed very local, he could tell there were other people mingling about that didn't appear to be part of Hanson's gang.

Moving towards the bar, Race droned out the rock and roll music coming from a jukebox in the corner while he maneuvered between a few tables and two billiards tables. He worked to make his appearance known, but not enough to draw much unwanted attention towards himself.

He took a seat at the turn in the bar so he could watch Karla, but not make it obvious he was watching her or anyone that showed interest in her. He ordered a beer and waited.

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"You see anything on your monitors?" Phil asked.

They had set up in the surveillance van in the parking lot adjacent to the club. There was still enough traffic moving around the strip mall as to not raise any red flags in regards to the van. It was unmarked and had normal license plates. The windows were tinted, keeping the heat out as best as they could since Phil instructed Dugger to kill the engine.

Roberts shook his head as he studied his screen. The van was cramped with the four men jammed inside and Phil told Dugger to stay in the driver's seat, as his large Cajun frame would make them feel like sardines if he was in the back with Corbin and the other two men. Dugger, grumbled his agreement and was currently eating while watching the bar's entrance from a distance through the windshield.

"She's at the bar and so is Race, but no sign of Hanson." Terry replied.

Velk zoomed in his screen, he was monitoring the exterior feeds. Tapping his finger on the monitor he pointed at one of the motorcycles. "According to Brooks that is Hanson's bike. He's definitely here, probably in the back office."

Keying the mic, Phil spoke into his headset. Race and Altine would be able to hear him and they would only respond with nonverbal signals. "Hanson's in there somewhere. Just keep a lookout. Karla, attract the attention of the bartender. See if that ugly son of a bitch can get Hanson to come out and play."

Terry frowned, but kept watching the feed. Velk gave the linguist a half smile and a shrug causing Roberts to just mumble and turn away.

They watched as Karla leaned forward on the bar, showing off her assets to the bartender as she spoke to him. At the same moment, Corbin's cell phone rang. Grumbling he moved to retrieve the device from his pocket, bumping into Velk behind him.

"Damnit, remind me not to recruit anymore of you oversized meatheads. This van smells like ball sweat and beef sticks with you rúrovej in here." Corbin joked with his Agents.

"It's boudin, boss. I made it myself." Dugger corrected from the front seat as he continued to chomp on the staple Cajun food.

Laughing, Velk leaned out of the way, allowing Phil to pull his phone out of his pocket. Looking at the caller ID, he grumbled and without answering it he tossed it on the little ledge in front of him.

"Who is it?" Roberts asked when he saw the frustrated look on Phil's face.

"Senator Burke." Annoyance bleeding into Phil's words.

"What the hell is he calling you for at this hour?" Velk asked.

"He's been blowing up my phone all day, ordering me to report to the Hill and explain this operation. He seems to think we fucked up and wants to know why we haven't retrieved Benton's son and stopped the traffickers yet."

"Politicians need to mind their own damn business if you ask me." Velk stated as he flipped some switches, changing the camera views on his monitor.

"No kidding, Matt," Dugger replied. "He should be at home with his wife and leave us to do the real work."

Velk laughed, "Have you seen Senator Burke's wife? Shit, man, no wonder he's calling Corbin in the middle of the damn night; our fearless leader here is much prettier." He gave Corbin a playful shove in the back as he spoke.

Phil smirked a little at his men's banter, "Would you two shut up and concentrate?" Then he added with a more serious tone, "I'd love to tell Senator Burke that we'd have found Jonny by now if he'd leave me the hell alone, but of course I can't do that." Phil rolled his eyes, "Have to play the political games. You guys don't worry about it, I'll deal with the Senator when this is all over."

"They're going to chew your ass, boss, you know that, right?" Velk laughed.

"I've taken ass chewings before. I'll survive."

"Hey," Terry interjected, drawing everyone's attention to him. "It looks like Hanson just emerged from his hole."

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Race observed Hanson, along with two of his goons, emerge from a back hallway at the far end of the bar. Keeping his eyes on his target, Race watched as the bald headed criminal snorted, grabbed the beer the bartender handed him, and move straight for Altine.

Race waved for another beer and as soon as the bartender deposited the bottle in front of him, Race snatched it up, took a swig and waited.

Karla felt the greasy biker's presence the moment he came over and stood next to her. Setting his beer down on the bar, Hanson grinned at the woman. "You new to these parts?"

Cringing inwardly, Karla put on her best smile and turned to face the creep. "Sure am. Just moved from down south."

Hanson leaned against the bar as he replied, "Oh yeah? A southern lady, huh? My type of woman."

"Really? Well I've always had a thing for bikers. Thrills and danger turn me on." She winked.

Leaning closer to the woman, Karla could smell him. He reeked of cigarettes, beer, and sweat. She tried not to gag.

"I can give you thrills and danger, if you know what I mean?" Running a couple fingers through her curly locks, he added, "I like the way you smell. I bet you taste just as fine."

He put his other hand on her thigh and it took all of her willpower not to jump up and bolt. But she took a deep breath and replied, "Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?"

Hanson's grip on her leg tightened and he sneered, "You trying to play hard to get? Leading me on or something?"

Seeing she had upset him, she backpedaled and said, "No, of course not. I just meant we should get to know each other a bit before we go all the way." She didn't want to, but she reached out and hooked a finger through his belt loop, pulling him closer.

Grinning Hanson replied, "Well, I'm not one for much talking. I prefer just getting straight to the action."

Grabbing her drink, Karla finished the liquid in one gulp, hoping it wasn't obvious that she was stalling, "I need another drink before we get there, handsome."

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Roberts watched the display between his new girlfriend and the biker on the screen with anger and distaste. He couldn't stand seeing the slime ball Hanson touching Karla. Fuming, he clenched his hands into fists.

About to speak up, he was cut off by Corbin's phone ringing again.

"Damnit." Phil grumbled, but knowing the Senator would keep calling, he decided to answer the phone. Removing his headset he picked up the phone and placed it to his ear.

"Sir, I'm right in the middle of something," Phil started, but he was cut off.

Exchanging a look with Velk, Roberts watched their boss blister as the Senator's mumbled words bled through the phone.

"Sir, we're working on it right now." Phil stated, "Why am I here? Because this is Doctor Quest's son we're talking about. I'm here to help him."

They watched as Phil ran his free hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. "You can't do that, Sir."

Another pause.

"Because this is an active investigation!" Phil shouted. The Senator replied, but Phil kept going. "Sir, I don't give a damn what the rest of the committee says. These people are smuggling children for Christ's sake!"

Roberts removed his headset and inched closer to the rear doors.

"So this is about politics and not people's lives? Is that how this is going to go down, Senator?" Phil shouted, his attention was completely on the phone call. "You want me back in Washington? Fine, I'll be there as soon as this operation is over and it won't be to testify, it'll be to hand you my resignation if that'll make you feel better. But right now I'm working to find Jonny Quest. Tell the committee that. Don't insult my intelligence or threaten me with termination because I'm working to save people's lives at the moment. You really think I give a damn about my job?"

Not wanting to miss his chance, Terry slipped out the back of the van unnoticed.

His threat must have caught the Senator off guard because Corbin relaxed ever so slightly. "Sir, I need to go." A pause, "Yes, I know." Another pause. "I'm sorry, but I can't be bothered with that right now. This investigation is top priority, you know that." Another pause. "Okay, I will. Yes, Sir." He paused one more time and ran his hands through his hair. "No, I won't. I promise, I won't resign. You just got me worked up." Sighing he waited then said, "Okay, fine. Yes, Sir. Will do."

Ending the call, Phil threw the phone against the back of Dugger's seat. "Political asshats, I swear!"

"They threatened to fire you?" Velk asked.

"They threaten to fire me at least a few times every year. They hate that I don't bow down to them like Stephens did, but they know we get results. They're just playing politics." Looking around the van, he asked, "Where the hell is Roberts?"

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Terry entered the bar and immediately realized he'd made a mistake. Never in his life had he acted so impulsively, but if he turned and left now he'd draw more attention to himself than he wanted. He saw Race perk up when he saw him enter, but Roberts ignored him and moved towards the bar where Hanson was still actively groping Karla.

Coming up behind the woman, Terry acted like he was waiting for the bartender. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing, he was operating on the fly. "Everything okay here, miss?" He asked Karla, looking between the young woman and the biker.

"Take a hike," Hanson spat, "She's spoken for at the moment."

To drive his point home, Hanson leaned closer, pressing his body up between Karla's legs.

Terry almost blew his top, "Maybe she doesn't like being groped like an animal."

Hanson scowled. Staring Terry dead in the eyes, he said, "What's it to you?"

"You don't treat women like this."

Race saw the exchange and knew shit was about to get bad. Standing he made his way over towards the group and stood with his back to Terry.

"I said take a hike, punk." The greasy biker sneered. "She's with me. Go find yourself some other tramp."

"Tramp?" Karla shot back, she set her new drink down and placed her hand atop her purse, slowly undoing the clasp.

"I saw the way you were lookin' at me, woman. You want me to do things to you…don't you?" The man growled as he snatched her by the upper arm, attempting to pull her out of her seat. "Why don't I take you in back and I can show you what a real man can do for you?"

"Let her go, asshole." Terry shouted and took a step towards him.

"What did you call me?" The man spat and letting go of Karla he shot an arm out and shoved Terry hard, causing him to stagger backwards into Race.

"Hey, watch it." Race barked, turning his attention towards the group. "You dicks made me spill my beer."

"Mind your own business, pal." The biker responded, but he was obviously intimated by the larger and more menacing looking Race Bannon.

Race pushed his way around Roberts. "You push this guy into me, spill my beer, then tell me to mind my own business? Guess what, I'm making this my business."

Jerking his head at the bartender, the biker said, "Mac, get my steroid filled friend here another drink."

The bartender set another beer down and opened it. Taking the bottle, Race smiled, "Thanks." He moved to walk away, past the trio.

The biker's eyes followed him and when Race was behind him, he turned his attention back to Karla. "Now, where were we? Oh yeah…let's go in the back so I can make you moan like the little whore you are."

Roberts balled his hands into fists. The biker saw the reaction and laughed. As the sleazy man reached for Karla a second time, his arm was snatched up and twisted behind his back.

"What that?" He yelped.

"You gave me a light beer." Race said as he bent the man's wrist and jerked his arm behind his back. The biker squealed as Race grabbed the back of his head, turned, and rammed Hanson's face into the bar. "I hate light beer…and that filthy mouth of yours."

The wood vibrated from the force of the impact and even a couple of nearby ashtrays shook and jumped slightly up into the air.

"Gaaa." Was the only sound the man made as Race felt him go limp. Letting go of the filthy biker, Hanson's dazed body slid to the ground, a small pool of blood left on the bar top from where the man's nose had shattered on impact.

"Fucker!"

Race heard the shout. Turning, he planted his feet as a fat man with a thick beard charged forward and swung a pool cue straight at Race's head. Bringing an arm up to block, Race felt the stick jar against his bones, but he quickly twisted his arm to wrap the stick up between his arm and his ribs, pinning it against his body. His other hand shot forward, snagged the biker's scraggly beard and in one motion, Race pulled the man towards him while at the same time driving his head forward. Their skulls smacked together and the man dropped from Race's vicious head-butt.

Spinning the cue, Race grasped the makeshift weapon and swung it like baseball bat at the next charging assailant. The biker anticipated the move and ducked while Race moved in for his real attack. Crouching down, he thrust the stick at the man's legs, tangling them up, then sprung upward, bring the stick between the man's legs and up, throwing the biker off balance and sending him spiraling backwards to smack into the closest billiards table. Race was on him in a flash and choking up on the cue, swung it at the man's wobbling head. On impact, the cue snapped in half as the man fell to the floor unconscious.

Roberts was jerked around as one of Hanson's bikers snuck up on him from behind. "You'll pay for this, you stinking rat."

Grabbing a handful of Terry's shirt, the biker held a switchblade in the other. Popping the blade open, Terry tensed as the man jammed the blade straight at Roberts' stomach. Roberts' hands shot downward, grabbed the man's wrist with both hands, then dropped to his knees, twisted around and brought the man's secured arm up over his shoulder, tossing the confused criminal over his shoulder. The look on Terry's face mirrored that of his foe; he was just as surprised the move worked as the other man. Scrambling back to his feet, the biker sneered and took a step towards Roberts, who raised his fists, ready to fight.

The biker spat, "Bring it on, you punk ass bitch."

He took two more steps when suddenly Karla attacked. Grabbing Race's almost full beer bottle off of the bar, she swung the glass container at Terry's opponent, cracking him across the face. Glass shattered, beer and blood sprayed everywhere and the man's eyes fluttered. Karla's arm snapped forward, her balled up fist connecting with the dazed criminal's temple; he dropped instantly from the blow.

"Thanks." Terry heaved. He was about to smile, when his eyes widened, focused on something directly behind Karla. Shooting forward, Roberts sprang into action as Hanson, who had been ignored after Race's first attack, was back on his feet and reaching for Karla.

Grabbing the woman by her long, curly hair, he caused her to cry out in pain. Hanson sneered as he reached behind his back. Roberts wasn't about to let him grab whatever he was concealing and he sidestepped, then swung for Hanson's face. His fist impacted with the sinister man's jaw, but Hanson was a man used to taking hits; he staggered but didn't release Altine.

Turning his head, Hanson glared at Roberts, who the biker assumed was a weak man acting on desperation; he was partially correct. While it had only been a few weeks, Roberts had started training with his fellow Agents back at I-1 Headquarters, his friends instructing him on the finer points and techniques of hand to hand combat as well as weight lifting. Roberts changed his tactic and kicked at Hanson's knee, buckling the man's leg and causing him to loosen his grasp on Karla. When he turned to look at his attacker, Hanson left himself open and Roberts spun, smacking his elbow into Hanson's already broken and bloodied nose with another sickening crunch. Hanson dropped to his knees and while he wavered, Roberts grabbed the man's bald head, cocked his leg and kneed him in the chin for good measure. Hanson was back down and sprawled out on his back without understanding what happened.

Race looked back at the scene, then a moment later the front door of The Spot was kicked in and the rest of the I-1 men, Velk, Dugger, and Corbin burst in, guns drawn, I-1 insignias visible on their jackets and shouting for everyone to get down on the ground.

The problem was that every threat was already down. The rest of the patrons stood by in shock, their hands shooting upwards at the sight of the Agents and their weapons.

"Thanks for leaving some for us, guys." Dugger snorted then went to work on securing the downed bikers while Velk isolated the rest of the patrons.

Dugger handed a pair of cuffs to Karla. "You want to do the honors?" He asked with a laugh.

"It'll be my pleasure." She said as she knelt down and manhandled the disgusting creep, Benjamin Hanson.

Race was standing next to Roberts when Phil came over, his face dark with anger. "Outside. Now." He said to Roberts.

"Sir, I," Roberts started.

"I said outside." Phil barked and headed for the door.

Sighing, Terry followed his superior out into the night. Corbin stood next to Dugger's motorcycle as Terry came up to him. Corbin's stare could have cut through glass.

"What were you thinking, Agent Roberts?"

Terry knew he was in trouble, Phil always called his people by their title and last names when he was pissed. "Sir, I don't know. I saw what that bastard was doing to her and I just...I don't know...I guess I wasn't thinking."

"You're damn right you weren't thinking. You could have compromised the entire operation. Your actions could have gotten you killed, not to mention your fellow Agents."

"Sir, I told you before I didn't like Karla being a part of this sting."

"That's not for you to decide, Terry." Phil shot back. "Every Agent on a team has a specific role during an operation and your role was to stay in the damn van. Not only did you not do that, you left without saying anything, then went in that bar and proceeded to fuck everything up. You're lucky Bannon was there and saw what was about to happen."

"I know, again, I wasn't thinking."

"You want to be a field Agent, Terry, but you need to learn how to operate as a team member. You think Matt and Pete liked being left in the van? Hell, you think I liked it? No, we didn't, but that was our assigned task for this operation."

Phil was so heated he ignored Race, who was approaching with caution. Terry sighed as Phil continued to lecture him. He gestured with his fingers and proclaimed, "I'm this close to suspending you."

"Sir, don't," He started.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't, Agent Roberts." Phil shot back.

"Sir," Race started, figuring he'd address Phil differently since his friend was so worked up. "I think he knows he messed up."

"Stay out of this, Race." Phil ordered. "You know as well as I do that he acted irrationally."

Race laughed a little, causing both men to stare at him. "Come on, Corbin. We've all acted irrationally and on raw emotions. Remember Prague?"

Phil sneered and huffed causing Roberts to ask, "Prague?"

Phil glared at Race, then with a heavy shrug of his shoulders said, "Pull another stunt like that again, Agent Roberts, and you'll be lucky if all I do is suspend you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Roberts nodded immediately.

Phil glowered then said, "We're done here. Let's get back inside and secure the scene."

He moved past the two men, giving Race a hard stare as he did. As they watched him go, Terry turned to Race, "Thanks for that, Race."

"Sure thing, bud, but you know he's right."

Roberts nodded, "I know. I wasn't thinking with my head."

Race laughed, "Well, at least not the right one."

Terry chuckled, then inquired, "What happened in Prague?"

Race sighed, "Phil did something similar. He rushed into a situation without thinking clearly. Got himself roughed up and probably would have been killed if we hadn't have gotten to him in time."

"How so?"

"You've heard of General Vostok, right?"

Roberts nodded.

"Phil and I were partners at the time, working in Prague to stop Vostok from detonating a biological weapon. Vostok viciously murdered one of Phil's contacts and left the poor old man for us to find along with an address, like a taunt. Phil rushed to confront Vostok without waiting for backup. It was a trap and Vostok captured and tortured him."

"Damn. I never knew that." Terry breathed.

"Yeah, it wasn't pretty. Vostok beat Phil, water-boarded him, and even made some other pretty vicious threats. Long story short, Phil had already coordinated with one of his other contacts and they, along with Jade and I, made it to the scene in time before Vostok killed him. But none of it would have happened if Phil had just stopped for a moment and approached the situation rationally."

"Damn. I can see where he's coming from then."

"Sometimes it just takes reminding people that none of us are perfect. Now you have some apologizing to do to Karla. I think she's more pissed off at you than Corbin is right now."

"Great." Roberts rolled his eyes as Race slapped him on the shoulder and guided him back towards the bar.

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Curling up under the covers, Jessie tried to sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about her father and what he was doing at the moment. She resisted her urges to call him, knowing he was probably in the middle of whatever operation he was about to conduct before he had called earlier in the evening. She just hoped he was okay. The men Race and the other Agents were fighting were vicious and sadistic, but no one was tougher than her father, but that still didn't alleviate all of her worries.

Naturally, as she imagined what Race was doing, her thoughts drifted towards Jonny. She still hurt so bad from the loss, a hurt that she knew could never be erased until he was safely back in her arms again.

Sighing she wrapped herself up in the comforter and closed her eyes. As she felt the drowsiness creeping up on her, she envisioned Jonny's face, his sloppy hair, goofy smile, and his slender, toned body.

Shuddering at the vision, she smiled and before she knew it, Jessie was fast asleep.

" _Jess, wake up."_

" _Hmmm," she mumbled, not wanting to open her eyes._

" _Wake up, Ace."_

 _She felt him shaking her gently and as she opened her eyes, Jonny was standing over her smiling._

 _His smile was gorgeous._

" _What? Is something wrong?" She asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes._

" _No, I just wanted to see that beautiful, sleepy look on your face." Jonny replied as he leaned down and kiss her lightly on the lips._

" _Jonny!" She laughed._

" _What? I can't get enough of you."_

 _Their recent encounters, sharing themselves with one another, had pushed Jonny and Jessie both to a new level of their relationship. Jessie was loving every minute of their time together and she could tell that Jonny shared her enthusiasm for the secret interludes._

 _Pushing her tenderly, Jonny climbed into her bed and snuggled up under the covers next to her. His hands immediately began to caress her soft, warm skin._

" _Jonny, our dads are here." Jessie giggled._

" _So what? It's like five in the morning." Jonny replied as he inched closer to her. "And your room is so far from both my dad's room and your dad's they'll never hear us."_

" _You've planned this all out, haven't you, Jonny Quest?" She breathed then kissed him._

" _When it comes to being with you, I plan everything to the most intricate detail, Jessie Bannon."_

 _Smiling, she rolled on to her back as Jonny moved on top of her. A breath caught in her throat as his lips brushed against hers, then moved down to explore her neck. Her back arched in response as her hands pushed against his chiseled abs._

" _So," Jonny whispered against her neck as he pressed his body down on top of hers; she felt his eagerness and she liked it. "How do you like it in the mornings?"_

" _Anyway and every way." She answered as her hands pushed his boxers from his hips._

" _Me too." He replied then removed her panties._

 _Their kiss deepened, their tongues meeting with ferocious desire. Jonny's hand found her leg and propping her up, he positioned himself and pushed._

 _Jessie gasped as she felt him inside her. Moving quickly almost immediately, Jonny rocked against her, thrusting himself with increased vigor as Jessie's gasps turned to moans of pleasure._

 _He pressed his lips to hers again and hissed, "Shhhh."_

 _Jessie pressed her lips together to keep from crying out, but low moans of enjoyment filtered past her full lips exciting Jonny even more as she ran her hands through his thick, blonde hair and whined for him._

 _As he continued to move gently, but quickly, she pushed him up and whispered, "No, wait."_

 _Jonny stopped, a look of concern on his face. "What's wrong? Am I hurting you?"_

 _Jessie smiled and raised up to peck him on the lips. "No."_

 _Turning, she rotated and Jonny moved with her. A moment later he was on his back, his head against her pillow as she repositioned herself on top of him. Taking him inside her, she leaned down, her hardened nipples brushing against his chest, her lips inches from his she said, "I want you to think about this every morning now."_

 _Jonny smiled as Jessie leaned up, her head falling backwards as her long, beautiful hair fluttered around her. She pressed her hands on his chest as she moved up and down on him. His hands gripped her hips, controlling her and his own thrusts. As their excitement grew, Jessie's head fell forward, her hair falling lazily around her face, the ends brushing against Jonny's chest, sending him into overdrive. She smiled seductively as she moaned, showing him how much she enjoyed him._

 _Feeling herself reaching the pinnacle of her desires, Jessie increased her movements. Jonny did the same. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around the redhead and took one of her breasts into his mouth, licking and teasing her nipple as she moved faster and faster on him._

" _Jonny," She moaned and bit her lip so she wouldn't cry out with passion._

" _Uh, Jessie, yes," He groaned, his lips still wrapped around her breasts. "I'm can't take it anymore."_

 _Jessie pushed up and down rapidly and as she encircled her arms around him she felt herself explode. At the same moment, Jonny did as well. They tensed and shuddered against each other, their bodies becoming one._

 _As their mutual releases ended Jonny flopped back down onto his back and Jessie collapsed on top of him, her head on his chest, her ear listening to his rapid heartbeat and his heavy breathing._

 _As he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, he said, "I should go before anyone wakes up."_

 _Jessie picked up her head and smiled at him. "Jonny, this is the type of wakeup call I can get used to."_

 _Jonny grinned and looked at the clock on her nightstand. Then looking back at her, he replied, "Well, I haven't heard anyone stirring yet and it is still early…"_

 _Jessie grinned and melted into his arms, kissing him deeply, ready for a quick round two._

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Dressed only in shorts, ankle socks, and tennis shoes, Jonny sat down on his cot. Pulling his shoes off, he dropped them to the canvas floor of the tent, not bothering to place them underneath his cot like he should have.

He no longer hurt, he was just angry. Angry that his family had abandoned him, angry at what Temple had told him about Race and his mother, but most of all angry at Jessie and Hadji for betraying him.

Sneering, He fell back on his cot and tucked his hands under his head, staring off into the darkness of the tent, but not really seeing anything.

Shaking his head, he finally closed his eyes, breathed deeply and erased all thoughts of his former life from his mind. He had to concentrate and focus because tomorrow he was going to start training with Greg Temple.

Eventually, Jonny Quest drifted off to sleep. He didn't dream.

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 **To Be Continued…**

 **A/N: rúrovej – Slovak word for goons. Corbin is fluent in speaking and reading slovak due to his previous training/assignments. (Reference: A Daughter's Justice)**

 **Boudin – a cajun white sausage made with pork and rice and stuffed into a pork casing then generally smoked so they can be consumed later. (They are actually really darn good!)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Butt-stock of his rifle nestled tightly into the pocket of his shoulder, Jonny rounded the corner of the crumbling building. Scanning ahead he didn't see any combatants so he made his way towards the door, intent on infiltrating the building and making his way towards the final target.

Weighted down with the heavy combat boots and equipment, Jonny still glided swiftly towards the door, but paused before crossing in front of an opening. At some point it must have held a pane of glass, but now the window was just a rectangular hole in the wall. He lowered his rifle, but kept it in the low-ready position so he could peer inside. Again, he saw no one and a quick, but thorough inspection of the frame revealed no booby traps.

Changing his plan on the go, Jonny placed a hand on the sill and vaulted over the ledge into the building. Feet hiding the floor within seconds, his knees absorbed the impact and he remained crouching as he readied his rifle once again.

So far he'd met no resistance, but he knew better than to think that no one was out there waiting for him. Making his way towards the open stairs, he kept his eyes focused down the iron sights of the rifle. Moving with a quickness, but incorporating caution, he never turned his back on the stairs as he started to make his way up to the next floor. He reached the next landing, then sliced the corner, keeping his back to the wall and scanning forward and up as he continued his journey towards the rooftop.

Three flights of stairs later, he stood in front of the roof entrance. Reaching out he grasped the knob, turned it and simultaneously pushed it open while crouching down to make his way out on to the roof. The blazing sun assaulted him, forcing Jonny to squint as he made his way towards the low wall that ran the length of the roof's perimeter. He ignored the empty pigeon coops and the random splattering of bird droppings as he reached the ventilation system that supported the building.

Kneeling, he set his rifle down, freeing both hands to retrieve a hard black case that was tucked away inside a pouch on his vest. Setting the case down and opening it, he looked up, did a quick scan, saw nothing then went back to his task.

' _Something doesn't feel right.'_ His mind told him, but he ignored the warning as he removed a long, metal cylindrical tube. Unscrewing the cap, he set it down then grabbed a small plastic bottle, similar to the bottles that held medication, from the case. Popping the top off with his thumb, he dumped the contents into the tube, returned the empty container to the case and secured the cap of the metal device.

Next, Jonny worked each of the small slits on the device open so once the device was activated, the contents inside would filtered through the slits. He turned the tube over. On the bottom was a small keypad. Jonny punched in the appropriate number then pressed the Enter button, arming the device.

With a smirk, he tossed the tube down the ventilation system.

Grabbing his rifle, he stood, intent on exiting by the same route he had come. He took a step, then noticed a red dot dead center on his chest.

"Shit!" He shouted and ducked, barely avoiding the kill shot as the round sailed overhead.

Crawling across the baking rooftop, he tried to make his way towards the door when the shooter switched weapons and began firing a fully automatic rifle. Rounds bounced all around him as his mind raced through his options. Still heading in the direction of the door, the gunman cut off his path, pelting the roof with the rounds.

Jonny was a sitting duck, he had to get out of the line of fire or else the machine gunner would soon get a bead on him and take him out. Suddenly, he had an idea. Popping up, he feinted moving towards the door, drawing the fire to that direction and as the gunner walked the rounds that way, Jonny turned and ran for the abandoned pigeon coops.

Sliding to his knees when he reached the cages, he found what he had hoped was there; a long coiled up garden hose. Smiling at his luck, he slung his rifle onto his back and snatched the hose up. His ears were ringing from the machine gun fire, but his heart and adrenaline were pumping. He secured one end of the hose to the sturdiest part of the coops' base then quickly moved to the edge of the building and tossed the rest over the side. He didn't need it to go all the way down, only far enough so he could shimmy down and drop the rest of the way.

He didn't have a moment to spare; he only hoped the hose wasn't dry rotted and that it would hold him just long enough for him to make his escape.

He looked up and saw the machine gunner on the rooftop two buildings down and across the street. With a smirk, Jonny climbed onto the ledge, threw up his middle finger in the man's direction, then grasped the hose with both hands and pushed himself over the side just as a another burst of rounds flew by.

Even with gloves, the quick descent burned Jonny's hands. Grunting he held on for dear life. He looked down and saw that the distance from the bottom of the hose to the top of the nearest closed dumpster was quite significant.

' _This is going to fucking hurt.'_ He told himself. Tightening his grip on the hose, he stopped his descent and shimmied as far to the end as he was willing to go. Planting his feet firmly on the wall, he kicked off while at the same time swinging towards the dumpster.

His weight was taxing his anchor and as he pushed himself off he felt the hose jerk. Losing his momentum, the sudden unexpected move made him slam against the brick wall. Grunting, Jonny knew he had to get off the hose now.

Getting his feet back under him, he repeated his actions, pushed away from the wall and swung out and to the side. Jonny let go of the hose at the last possible moment, the momentum of his movement sending him hurling towards the dumpster as gravity pulled him down. Seconds later he crashed on top of the container, the impact jarring his shoulder and rattling his teeth.

He grimaced, but didn't have time to worry about the pain. Rolling off the bin, he jumped to the ground and examined his current position. The shooter was still out there and would be expecting him to emerge onto the street; if Jonny went that way he'd be done for.

Changing his tactic, he descended deeper into the alleyway and found access to the next building. Kicking the door in, Jonny readied his rifle and quickly made his way through the building to the stairs, but he wasn't headed for the roof this time.

He made his way to the top floor and to a room that faced the street. Dropping down, he crawled across the grimy floor towards the window, again just a hole with no glass.

Peering over the edge he saw the machine gunner on the roof, now one buildings down.

"I can do this." He breathed out loud. Making sure he didn't expose himself, he placed his front arm on the window sill and propped the barrel of his rifle on top, using his arm to secure the weapon. Tucking the butt-stock back into his shoulder, he stared down the iron sights, taking a bead on the man on the roof. It was a tough shot, but Jonny was confidant in his abilities.

Slowing his breathing, he steadied his nerves and waited for just the right moment. A minute later the gunner moved, raising his body and turning backwards.

Jonny fired.

He watched as the round smacked into the man's back, causing him to stagger forward then drop out of sight. Sighing heavily, Jonny didn't waste any time thinking about it. He just reacted. Standing, he made his way back to the stairs, down, and outside onto the street.

Once outside, he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare then waited. What felt to Jonny like hours was, in reality, only a few minutes when he saw Temple step out of the building across the street. Moving towards the man, Jonny met him half way in the middle of the abandoned street.

"How'd I do?" Jonny asked once they were together.

"Not bad, Hotshot, not bad." Temple grinned, turning around to show Jonny where his training round had impacted. "That was a hell of a shot."

Jonny nodded, the praise felt good. "How was my time?"

Temple looked at his watch. "Better than the last time, but you still need to work on the getting quicker with the device. If you'd hadn't taken so long up there, you could have gotten away before I found you."

Jonny took in the information, playing the scenario out in his head.

Temple put a hand on Jonny's shoulder and said, "But seriously, the move off the rooftop. That was quick thinking on your part. You knew I had the door covered and going over the edge like that…pretty damn ballsy, Jonny. That's what I like to see."

"Thanks." Jonny smiled.

"But next time you give me the finger I'll take it off with my next shot." Temple laughed.

"Hey, gotta have a little fun, right?" Jonny joked in response.

"Come on, let's get back to the camp. We'll run another scenario after nightfall."

"Sounds good to me, Greg." Jonny replied as he fell in step with his new mentor.

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"Take them outside, a couple of our guys from the Maryland office are on the way." Phil told his Agents once they had the group of bikers cuffed and secured. "They'll drive them back to headquarters for us."

The bar was shut down and the patrons not associated with Hanson had been sent home after being checked and verified. Race was in the back office, going through a pile of documents that had been strewn about on Hanson's desk.

"Find anything yet?" Corbin asked as he stepped inside with Race.

Shaking his head, Race held up a fistful of papers, "Shipping documents and invoices, but nothing to do with the traffickers yet. There's a lot here, Phil, but most of it is in code. This is going to take time to decipher. Time we don't have."

Walking towards the desk, Phil casually picked up some of the documents, gave them a once over, then set them back down. Sighing he said, "I'm surprised you're so calm at the moment."

"What?" Race asked.

"Terry messed up and I had to walk away from letting him know how bad he messed up because you interrupted me." Phil stated. "I thought you'd be on my side on this one. We are looking for Jonny after all and Terry's actions really could have hindered this investigation. I realize now that I should have left him back in D.C., that's on me, but I guess I assumed he would have been more professional."

Race listened intently to the Director, then spoke. "It did bother me, Phil. But at the end of the day, we got Hanson without too much of a fight. What good would me chewing into Roberts accomplish after you already did? It's not my place to discipline him or any of your Agents for that matter."

"He's going to think I'm punishing him, but I need him on another assignment. It'll be temporary, but I wanted to let you know first since he's also part of this team."

"What's the assignment?"

"I've been tasked to provide an interpreter for a political summit in Moscow. The summit is at the end of next month. He's due some vacation time and after everything we've been through in the last two months I think he can use a break."

"It'll be good for him." Race agreed.

"Terry's my best linguist and of all the languages he speaks, he excels in Russian and some of the Eastern Bloc dialects. If needed I'll pull someone else on to the team to fill in for him."

Race nodded, "Any word from Brooks at the docks?"

"He's waiting on us right now. I want to secure both sites before we head back to D.C. Once the Maryland office guys get here, which should be any minute now, I want to head over to the docks and we'll raid it as well. I already received the search warrant based on what we discovered here."

Corbin was talking about the stash of illegal guns and drugs they had found in Hanson's office along with the shipping documents.

"How'd you get it so fast?"

Phil winked, "Are you really asking that question? We both have contacts that can make things happen on a moment's notice."

"Who you taking to the docks?"

"I figured you, me, Velk, and Karla. Pete and Terry can stay here and finish up with the Maryland team."

Race nodded, "Let's go."

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"How did young Mister Quest perform during the training simulations?" Kreed asked the moment Temple stepped into the rear portion of the Englishman's tent.

"Better than expected, Lucius." Temple grabbed himself a cup of coffee while he spoke. "Like I said the other day, he's ready."

"Are you confidant that he has been swayed mentally to our cause?"

"Well, I raised the dosage of the mind controlling powder. I think he's succumbed to the suggestive powers of the substance, especially after you showed him the pictures Grimm sent."

"Very good." Kreed nodded. Turning to face the American, his wicked grin suddenly disappeared. "About the other evening on the teleconference, you should not have told the board you were determined to keep the boy. You know they want him for their own purposes now."

Temple rolled his eyes. "How typical of the board. First they were willing to let him go, end up in the hands of some millionaire pedophile, but now that we secured him they want him for themselves. I don't think so, Lucius."

"He can be a very persuasive bargaining chip to be used against his father. You know this, Greg." Kreed stated as he sipped a cup of tea.

"Is he a hostage or a potential operator? If the board just wants him to use as a hostage then why am I wasting my time converting and training him?"

"Why can he not be both?"

"That's insane, Kreed. You know that. What's the end game with Jonny? What does the board really want him to do?"

"What do you think, Greg? They want him to destroy his father." Kreed laughed a little at the idea.

"So, we train him to kill his own father and then what? Hand him over to I-1 so they back off?" Temple grumbled.

Kreed studied the other man intently. "Are you developing a soft spot for the young Quest? I thought better of you, Greg."

"No," Temple shot back a bit too forcefully. "I just don't like my time being wasted, that's all. I rescued him. Now I'm training him and I'm going to keep him. I need a partner on these upcoming assignments and who better than the kid I've gone to such great lengths to mold into what The Consortium needs?"

Kreed seemed to accept Temple's reasoning. With a nod, he said, "Very well. Do what you have to with him. I will handle the rest of the board if it comes up again."

Temple downed the last of his coffee, crushed the cup in his meaty hand then tossed it into a nearby waste bin. Staring at his partner for a moment, he eventually shrugged, "I'm taking him out in about an hour to run the scenario again for night operations. Jonny will be, thanks to me, more effective than any other operator we've trained in the past. And when I take him out into the real world with me, you and the board will see, that Jonny will be more dangerous than any of you ever dreamed he could be."

"Bannon is still searching for him you know." Kreed countered. "What do you plan to do when he finds you, Greg?"

"Let Bannon come," Temple growled. "You all speak his name as if he's some indestructible force and we should cower in fear before him. I'm not afraid of Bannon or all of I-1 for that matter. I'll kill any Agent they send after us, damn whatever the board says. And you know what will be even more satisfying, Kreed?"

"What is that, Mister Temple?" Kreed led the big man on.

"By the time Bannon shows up, Jonny will be so deep under my control that I wouldn't be surprised if young Mister Quest insists on pulling the trigger himself."

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With a silent nod Race indicated that he was ready. The team had arrived at the docks, received an update from Agent Brooks and the State Troopers and were standing by to infiltrate Hanson's office.

Race was stacked on one side of the door with Corbin on the other. Both were armed with their issued sidearms and wearing protective vests. Velk and Altine covered the rear while Brooks and one of the troopers converged on an area of the docks were the other two troopers stationed as lookouts indicated some activity.

Keying his mic, Race whispered, "All teams, move out in three…two…one…mark."

As soon as he said the word, Race pushed himself off of the wall and kicked in the door of the mobile trailer that served as the office.

Bursting inside, Race raised his handgun at the two men that sat at the worn down desks. "Intelligence One, hands up!" He ordered.

One man froze while the other spun in his chair and bolted for the rear of the trailer. Seconds later the rear door was kicked in by Velk, cutting off the fleeing suspect before he could move five steps.

Surrounded, the two men raised their hands. Race saw Corbin from the corner of his eye and knowing the Director had his weapon trained on the man at the desk, Race approached swiftly and with a purpose. "Stand up."

The thug didn't move. Race sneered and snatched the man out of his seat, slamming him down onto the desk with an audible thud. "You hard of hearing or something, pal?" He spat as he jerked the man's hands behind his back and cinched the cuffs down tight.

"Hey, that's too tight, asshole." The man cried with hate.

Patting him down, Race pulled a small caliber handgun from the back of the man's jeans and placed it on the desk. "Don't worry, they're new, they'll loosen up eventually."

"Big man's got jokes." The prisoner grumbled.

Hauling him up to his feet, Race slammed the man against the wall, his hand secured around the thug's throat. "I don't see anyone laughing, do you, tough guy?"

Moving him and the other prisoner, secured by Agent Velk, to the small area in front of the desks, Race shoved the man down onto a dirty and torn up couch. Velk sat the guy's comrade down next to him.

"What's this about?" The first man asked. "You Feds better have a warrant. This is private property."

Phil produced his warrant and flashed it in front of the man's face. "We're searching for kidnapped children and this little piece of paper gives me the right to tear this place apart looking for those kids."

"There ain't no kids here, you've got the wrong place." The man shot back.

"The longer it takes us to search this place the more illegal goods I bet we're going to find," Race stated. "So why don't you do yourselves a favor and start talking."

The man snorted, but kept his mouth shut.

"Fine, you want to play that game?" Phil stated. Turning to Velk and Altine he ordered, "Start tearing this place apart. Bag and tag everything."

"Yes, Sir." Velk nodded and got to work.

"You ain't gonna find nothin'." The man replied as he watched Velk rummage through his desk.

"We'll see about that." Race scowled.

Within minutes, Velk raised his head, "I think I've found something."

"Already?" Race laughed with a look at the prisoner.

"They're too stupid to even password protect their systems." Velk replied.

Joining the other Agent, Race and Phil looked at the criminal's laptop. Hitting a few keys Velk opened a folder and inside was hundreds of pictures of child and torture pornography. Looking back at the man with disgust, Race's face was on fire.

"You're going away for a long time just on this," Phil motioned at the laptop. "Start talking and you might get to see the outside of a prisoner cell sometime before you die."

"Fuck off." The man spat back.

Shaking his head, Phil motioned for Velk to continue. A crackle in their ear pieces drew their attention away from the disgusting display on the screen. "Sir, we found something."

It was Brooks. Race perked up, "What is it? Did you find Jonny?"

"Negative. You really need to see this for yourselves. We're out in row twenty-three Charlie."

"On the way." Race said.

Phil waved his hand for Velk and Altine to continue and keep an eye on the prisoners. "Matt, call in backup so they can start assisting with securing this site."

"Got it." Velk answered, but neither Race nor Phil heard him; they were already out the door and heading in the direction Brooks had mentioned.

Minutes later, they joined Brooks and the trooper. Brooks immediately reported, "There was a few workers, but they scattered when we approached."

"I have additional men outside the entrance and they apprehended the runners." The Trooper, a man named Jones, stated. "They're in custody now."

"Good work." Race gave the man a nod of appreciation.

"Sir," Brooks started. "Those men were working around these containers. We opened this one up and found this." He pulled the heavy door outward. It was dark so all four men turned on their flashlights and stepped inside.

"Fuck," Race muttered. The container was obviously being prepped as a transport container. Inside was a number of dirty mattresses, blankets, gallon jugs of water, food ration containers, and buckets that reeked of old human waste.

Brooks shone his flashlight towards the ceiling. "You can see the container's been modified to allow for airflow as well as an old HVAC system. My guess is they have a number of these containers throughout the yard to use for transporting their captives."

Race wandered through the box, looking at the conditions that these people had set up for their prey. It made him sick to his stomach. Shining his light along the wall, he observed random markings throughout; markings that looked to have been made by previous occupants. Towards the rear of the container he was drawn to one marking in particular; the words HELP US had been scrawled onto the side of the metal. From the crudeness of it, Race surmised it had been made with either blood or some other bodily fluid.

He needed air. Stepping outside, Race took a number of deep breaths while he paced. He heard Phil speaking to Brooks and the trooper, but the man was speaking too low for Race to make out his words. It didn't matter.

Race took off at a dead sprint back towards the office.

Seeing his friend take off, Phil looked at Brooks and the Trooper, "Stay here." Then took off after Race.

Hitting the partially open door with the full force of his outstretched arms, Race was on the first thug within two long strides. His sudden appearance shocked both captives and Velk and Altine alike.

Grabbing the man by the front of his shirt, Race hauled him to his feet. Faces inches apart, he demanded, "Where are they? Where are the kids?"

The man laughed.

Phil entered a second later, "Race, let him go."

"Fuck that." Race spat. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a picture of Jonny. Shoving it into the man's face, Race growled, "Where is this boy?"

"Fuck you, asshole." The man replied, then spit in Race's face.

It was the wrong move.

Tightening his hold, he spun the man around, barely missing Phil who sidestepped out of Race' path at the last moment. Race pushed his captive through the door and threw him down hard onto the slick concrete.

"Where is he?" Race wiped his face clean.

"You hard of hearing or something, pal?" The man mocked.

Race lost it. He kicked the handcuffed thug in the gut with his steel toed boot, causing the man to curl up into a fetal position. "Tell me where he is, damnit!"

The man coughed. Race felt Phil and Velk attempt to restrain him, but his rage was too great and he shrugged the other men off easily. He planted another kick in the man's stomach, "You think this is a joke? You think sticking kids in shipping containers and sending them across the world is a fucking game? Selling them to be sex slaves? You sick fuck!"

"I want a lawyer." The man whined.

"You're gonna need more than a lawyer when I'm done with you." Race sneered. He landed another kick, not as hard, but this one was to the man's chin.

Rolling over the prisoner coughed up a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. "Get this fucking lunatic off me."

Velk moved between Race and the prisoner. The Agent was as tall as Race and while not as toned, he was wide in the shoulders and just as strong as Bannon. He placed his hands on Race's chest and pushed him backwards. "Race, stop." He tried to calm his friend down, but Race could tell from Velk's tone that he felt the thug deserved the beating he was getting.

"These sons of bitches!" Race shouted as he tried to push passed Velk, but the other Agent remained steadfast.

"Race, calm down." Phil ordered.

His face was beat red, his nostrils flared as he sucked in deep breaths and exhaled. Finally, Race tore his gaze from the man he wanted to kill and looked at the Director. Phil's look was the same as Velk's, but Race knew that Phil wasn't protecting the prisoner, he was protecting Race. The last thing they needed was a dead suspect or a lawsuit, neither of which would help Jonny.

Throwing his hands in the air, Race stepped back. "I'm fine."

Phil studied his enraged friend for a moment, then nodded at Velk. Matt picked the beaten man up off the ground and took him back inside the trailer.

"Don't say anything," Race said when he and Phil were alone. "I know it was wrong, but…"

"Come on." Phil said and put a hand on Race's shoulder to lead him back into the trailer.

Back inside, Phil stared down the beaten man and his confederate, who sat sullenly and quietly on the couch.

Finally looking away, Phil turned to Velk. "Call in as much help as you need; I-1, the State Police, even the FBI, DEA, and the Marshals if that's what it's going to take."

"Sir?" Velk questioned.

"I want every single container at this port opened and searched. Every damn one. That includes the ships currently in port and the cargo. No ship leaves port and none dock until this site is one hundred percent searched and secured. Get me the name of any ship that's currently in port that is not a U.S. flagged vessel and I'll obtain the appropriate search warrants. Any U.S. flagged ship is searched immediately per my order. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." Velk nodded. He was on the phone a moment later making the appropriate coordination.

"As for you two," Phil started.

"Fuck you, I'm going to sue your ass for what your man did to me. I'll be out before you can fucking blink. And you better hope I don't find out where any of you assholes live."

Not missing a beat, Phil said, "Add that to the list of charges you're facing, Mister. Death threats against Federal Agents. Now you have zero chance of ever seeing the light of day again, you piece of shit."

"I need to clear my head." Race said. He stepped towards the door, but the goon who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut, called out to him.

"Hey, big man, guess what? I did see that kid in the picture."

Race turned back and stared daggers at the man. "Where is he?"

"He's gone." The man laughed. "We shipped his ass out weeks ago. But guess what, big man? When I say he's gone, I mean he's dead."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Race shouted.

"The ship he was on, it fucking sank."

"You're lying." Race shot back, but he didn't believe his own words.

"No I'm not. You can check for yourself. The boat's name was the Queensland Mother. Check it out. You assholes are too late."

Race took a step towards the man, but was cut off by Phil. "Step outside, Race."

"Phil," Race started.

"Step outside. Now." He ordered.

Race glared at the prisoner over Phil's shoulder, but eventually turned and did as he was told.

Looking back at the prisoner, Phil said, "You better hope you're information is wrong. Because if not, you can add felony murder to the list of charges you'll be facing."

"I ain't wrong, you'll see." The prisoner laughed.

Phil shook his head and went to join Race and provide whatever little comfort he could to his distraught friend.

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"Good morning, Doctor Quest." Jessie greeted as she pushed her way into the kitchen. She'd slept surprisingly well the evening before, the first night she'd fallen asleep without the aid of medication.

"Good morning, Jessie." Benton replied as he turned from the coffee pot. "You look well this morning."

"Physically, I feel better than I have as of late." Jessie went about the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of orange juice then taking a seat at the island. Benton watched her the entire time. "Any word from my dad or I-1 this morning?"

Benton knew Jessie's question was meant to divert the conversation from herself, but he'd give her the benefit of at least answering, "Just that the team is back in Washington, D.C. Corbin called me a bit ago to tell me they conducted a couple raids last night. No Jonny, but they are confident they've collected enough evidence to find him."

Jessie's disappointment mirrored Benton's. She knew he was struggling and every day that passed without any positive news was one more day that Jonny slipped further from their reach. "I'm sure they'll get a break soon, Doctor Quest."

"I hope so, Jess." Benton replied, sipping his coffee. "With Race being active in the investigation, Corbin wants to assign another Agent here, at least temporarily until Jonny is found."

"Do you think that's necessary?"

"I don't know, but he sounded adamant."

"What did you tell him?"

Benton stroked his beard before replying, "I told him I wanted Intelligence One to concentrate on finding Jonny. That we could take care of ourselves here for the time being. He didn't sound too happy about it, but at the end of the day it's my decision. However, if you or your mother feel having someone around is necessary I can call Phil back and let him know."

"What about Hadji?"

As if summoned by his name, Hadji appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Making his way towards the coffee pot, Hadji answered, "I must return to Bangalore in a couple days. A number of high priority meetings are quickly approaching and I cannot ignore my duties to my people there."

"Hadji, must you?" Jessie hated the idea of being the only teenager left in the house right now.

"My mother is a fine ruler, but there are decisions that I, as Sultan, must make. However, I plan to return the moment I am able."

"I did request an Agent accompany you, son." Benton confessed. "I know your royal guardsmen are more than capable, but having someone from the Agency with you can help facilitate communication between everyone. An I-1 Agent would also be more in tune with the current investigation and be able to spot anything out of the ordinary or suspicious behavior that might not be as apparent to your other guards. I know I took a liberty, Hadji, but with Jonny still missing I cannot risk something happening to you as well."

Stoic and understanding as ever, Hadji gave a curt nod. "I understand, father. It is okay."

"Director Corbin will bring the Agent here tomorrow evening so he can fly out with you the following day."

"What about dad?" Jessie asked. She'd really like to see him in person, if only briefly.

"I don't know if he'll be coming, Jessie." Benton stated. "He and I haven't spoken since we returned home."

Jessie attempted to mask her displeasure; she missed her father. It was one thing to speak with and see him over video chats, but it was another for him to be around in person. She understood that Race was actively engaged in finding Jonny and being back in Maine would be a distraction and separate him from the resources available to him at I-1 Headquarters. However, Jessie still felt it was unfair that Doctor Quest had insisted that Race not return home when nothing that happened had been her dad's fault.

Sighing, Jessie stood. "I think I'm going to head out to the lighthouse for a bit."

Benton frowned, noticing the sudden change in Jessie's mood. "Jessie, perhaps you'd like to assist me in the lab? I've been running a number of tests on my latest project and could use an extra set of eyes."

Shaking her head, Jessie refused the offer. "I don't really feel up to that right now, Doctor Quest."

"Jessie," Benton started.

"Please, I really just want to be alone right now, okay?" She countered before Benton could say any more. Not giving the elder Quest a chance to reply, Jessie turned and left the kitchen.

"What did I say wrong?" Benton exhaled.

"She is still very conflicted, father." Hadji observed. "On top of what happened to her and her feelings for Jonny, she is missing her father too. Maybe if Race can come with Director Corbin it would be wise to allow him to do so. If only to be able to see Jessie and Estella for a short time."

Brow furrowed, Benton contemplated his son's suggestion. Benton knew he had acted on emotions back at the raid site, but part of him still felt that Race had let his family down. "Perhaps, Hadji. But any time he spends here is time that he's not actively searching for Jonny."

"I'm sure the rest of the I-1 Agents assigned to the search would still be working diligently and would communicate with Race the moment they discovered something." Hadji saw the hesitation in his father's eyes, so he added, "Just something to think about, father. I have some free time this morning if you'd like help with those tests."

Benton smiled a little, "Sure, son. That would be fantastic."

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"Rise and shine, kid."

Jonny groaned, his sore muscles protesting the sudden movement. Rubbing his eyes he frowned as his companion grinned down at him from above. "Already? It feels like I just fell asleep."

"Get used to it, Hotshot. You were impressive out there yesterday and last night, that's for damn sure."

"I told you not to call me that." Jonny rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

The big man grinned at him, "I don't give a fuck. I'll call you whatever I want."

Pulling his boots on, Jonny stood. He shot his mentor a grin and joked, "With that attitude it's no wonder you're still a fucking lackey."

"Watch your mouth, smartass. You should have more respect for your elders. Besides, I'm no lackey, Jonny. In fact, you and I are going to make some big changes within The Consortium here real soon."

"How so?" Jonny continued getting dressed.

"You're right about one thing, Jonny, I'm tired of standing around waiting to be told what to do. Kreed does his thing and that's fine, but that shit bores me. You and I, kid, we were born for action. The rest of the board is nervous and Lucius is starting to act that way too. I can tell."

"What are they nervous about?"

Temple eyed Jonny briefly, wondering just how much he should share. Jonny was definitely swayed, but he wasn't completely indoctrinated yet; Temple could still see the tiny slivers of doubt peaking through every now and again.

 _'Time for a drink, just in case.'_ Temple told himself and reached into the pouch on his load bearing vest. He watched Jonny watch him. Cocking his head, he indicated to the teen to retrieve a bottle of water from the cooler tucked into one of the corners. Jonny did as he was told.

 _'Good boy.'_ Temple grinned and handed the powder packet to Jonny when he returned. Temple grinned with satisfaction while he watched Jonny go through the motions of mixing the water and powder then drinking it down completely. _'I guess upping the dosage was a good thing.'_

"Nothing important," Temple said in answer to Jonny's question after the boy finished his drink. "They get like this every now and again, worried about too much visibility, too much heat. There's some big missions coming up, some big paydays, and they just want to ensure things go smoothly."

"Who are these board members you keep speaking of?"

"No more questions." Temple grumbled. "We have a lot to accomplish today and sittin' around yappin' isn't on the list."

Jonny glared at the man, watching as he chewed on his toothpick, staring back at him. "Alright," Jonny acquiesced. "You're right. Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Temple stated and handed Jonny his HK G3. "You're going to have to learn to get rid of those fucking emotions and feelings, they're going to get you killed. And if you get killed that means I'm dead as well and since I kind of enjoy my life I'd appreciate it if you'd man up and grow a fucking pair."

Jonny went through the motions of checking the weapon. "You know there's better armaments out there than this old ass hunk of shit, right?"

"Watch it, Quest. That G3 saved my ass on numerous occasions. You want a bunch of stupid ass whizz-bang shit clogging up your rifle, be my guest. But if you can't use iron sights then you ain't shit."

"I can use iron sights just fine." Jonny countered as he tossed the rifle back to the. "I proved that to you yesterday when I tagged you in the back."

"I want to ensure that wasn't just a lucky shot." Temple huffed a little laugh. "Let's hit the range this morning."

"Lucky shot? Bullshit. That shot was dead on and you know it. Give me some credit, will you?"

Pausing, Temple studied the young Quest for a moment. "You're right, Jonny. You are doing quite well. Since you saw the truth and decided to join us, you've excelled faster than even I expected. I just want to make sure you remember who your real family is now. You do understand, right, kid?"

"I get it, Greg. Of course what Jessie and Hadji did bothers me, no, infuriates me. First they abandon me, then they do that? It's like having a knife jammed in your fucking back over and over."

"I won't abandon you, Jonny." Temple offered softly.

Looking up, Jonny looked into Temple's eyes and what he saw changed him. For years, Jonny had learned how to read people; that the eyes are the windows to the soul; the eyes cannot lie. Temple was telling the truth; Greg Temple wouldn't abandon him.

"It's all so confusing." Jonny finally stated, his voice barely audible. "Why would they do that?"

"I don't know, kid," Temple replied. He moved towards Jonny and sat down next to him on the cot, the canvas creaking under the added weight of the muscular man. Temple set his rifle down across his legs and said, "I don't know why, Jonny. But I want you to know that I care about you. Since you came here, I've seen your potential. You're strong, kid. I think you've been held back, but I won't hold you back. I'll help you reach your full potential. I like you, Jonny, I really do."

Looking at the man, Jonny huffed and said, "I like you too, Temple."

Pulling his arm from Jonny, Temple leaned back so he could reach into his pocket. Pulling his hand out, Jonny saw Temple was holding a coin. He'd seen similar coins in Race's office, some called them challenge coins; military and law enforcement personnel gave them to their people as tokens of appreciation and rewards for a job well done. Temple motioned for Jonny to hold out his hand. When the young blonde complied, Temple grasped his hand, sealing the coin between their palms.

"An old friend gave me this coin many years ago. I keep it as a token of remembrance for all he did for me. Now, I want you to have it, Jonny. I want to show you that I'm sincere and this coin will be our bond to each other. I promise to take care of you, protect you, and teach you everything I know so you can be the man you were meant to be."

Jonny nodded and when Greg let go of his hand, Jonny kept the coin.

The first genuine smile Jonny had witnessed spread across Temple's face. "You're home now, Jonny. We take care of our own. The Consortium is your family now."

"I see that now, Greg." Jonny agreed. "The Consortium will take care of me. You will take care of me. I am home."

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 **To Be Continued…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The round missed. Jonny grumbled and slammed his fist in the sand. "Damnit."

"Concentrate, Hotshot." Temple stated, peering through his spotting scope. "You were wide right again."

"It's this damn wind," Jonny pulled back on the bolt, ejecting the spent shell casing and loading another round into the high powered sniper rifle. "It's throwing off my shot and blowing sand in my fucking eyes."

"I said concentrate," Temple repeated. "You have to zone out all distractions. Use the wind to your advantage and readjust your aim accordingly."

"Easy for you to say, Temple, you're not the one behind the rifle."

Temple pushed himself up from the prone position. "Hey, look at me."

Jonny huffed, but turned his head to look at his mentor. "What?"

"You need to listen to what I'm telling you. I'm trying to make you excel, Jonny. But you won't if you keep making excuses. I don't need to be the one squeezing the trigger because I've done it before. How the fuck do you think I know what I'm talking about?"

"I didn't mean anything by it."

"Sure you did," Temple growled. "You think you're hot shit and that you don't need to listen, but obviously you're not and you _do_ need to listen."

Jonny sneered and turned his head back to gaze down the scope of his rifle. Temple snagged him by the back of the neck and hauled him back, forcing him to sit up. Jamming a finger into the boy's face, Temple raised his voice. "Drop the attitude right now, Jonny. You want to end up dead? Because if you keep up this snotty behavior that's exactly what will happen. You think you're the best because Bannon showed you a few things here and there? Well let me tell you something, kid, Bannon ain't that great. I told you once already how he fucked up and got your mother killed. Is that the type of man you want to emulate? A fuck up? A loser that got reassigned because he couldn't do his damn job correctly?"

"No." Jonny mumbled.

"Then why don't you shut that trap of yours and instead open your ears. Do what I'm telling you to do. These kind of precision shots take skill and you need to master that skill. I'm going to make sure you do that, but you have to listen to what I'm trying to teach you. Now get your ass back down and line up your next shot."

With a solemn nod, Jonny got back down in the prone position and nestled the butt-stock of the rifle into his shoulder.

Temple smiled. "Good. Now acquire the five hundred meter target left of the marker."

"Acquiring." Jonny stated coldly.

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Just after seven in the morning, Race pushed his way through the doors into I-1 Headquarters. He'd managed to grab a couple hours of sleep after returning from Baltimore, but he was restless and ended up getting out of bed, worked out to alleviate his frustrations and then headed into the office.

Hitting the elevator button, he tried to be patient, but even the damn elevators seemed slow and time consuming. About to head for the stairs, he stopped when he saw Corbin approaching.

"Thanks." Race grumbled when Phil handed him a cup of coffee from the Starbucks just outside the building.

"Sure." Phil replied. His voice reflected the tiredness in his eyes.

"You manage to get any sleep?" Race asked once the elevator arrived and the two men stepped inside.

"Some. Spent most of the night fussing with the wife though." He answered.

"Fussing? Is that what you call it now?" Race joked, cautiously sipping his coffee.

Phil shot him a smirk, "I wish that's what it was. Every time I leave now Sarah gets anxious. That's all. She and the girls aren't used to me being gone this much anymore. Part of the reason I accepted this position was for the stability it offered."

"I'm sorry, man. I know what it's like." Race offered sympathetically.

"Thanks. Once we find Jonny I'm sure things will go back to normal." Phil's shoulders sagged. "But I need to do something to make it up to them. Hell, I could use a vacation, so I know they need one too."

"Do something nice for them when this is over, Phil. They'll understand." Race suggested.

Phil simply nodded. The elevators opened to deposit them on the appropriate floor. Making their way towards Phil's office, Race waited till they were inside and settled to start talking business.

"So, what now?"

"I had to give the team some rest so I assigned a portion of the GOC night shift to organize the evidence we collected. They've set up in conference room B down the hall. The rest of the team should be in by ten." Phil said. "Why don't you head down there and start and I'll join you in a few. I have to speak with Roberts once he arrives, but in the mean time I have some calls to make."

"Sounds like a plan." Race agreed.

He headed for the door when Phil suddenly asked, "Have you spoken to Jessie lately?"

Stepping back towards the desk, Race answered. "Yesterday before the raids. Why?"

"Tomorrow I'm taking Agent Reynolds up to Maine. I'm assigning him to guard Hadji since he's returning to Bangalore for some time. I wondered if you wanted to go."

"Benton hasn't changed his mind about me being there." Race sighed.

"I know. I spoke with him about it and while he's softened somewhat, he still feels its best that you stay away for now. I figured maybe you can meet up with Jess and Estella in town for a few hours while I go talk with Benton and Hadji. I'm sure it would do all three of you some good to see each other in person. Of course that's all predicated on what we find today."

Race nodded. "I'll call her around lunch time. Thanks, Phil."

Corbin gave his friend a curt nod before Race left. Once he was alone, Phil pulled a disposable cell phone from the top drawer of his desk. Turning it on, he punched in a number and waited for the other end to be answered.

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Walking back into his tent, Jonny wanted nothing more than to take a shower and forget about his dismal performance at the sniper range earlier in the day. He thought he was good at shooting, especially after performing so well at the urban operations training. He actually preferred the urban ops over long distance shooting, but as Temple was keen to remind him, Jonny had to be well rounded and able to perform any mission given to him.

Sighing, he sat down on the cot. He was about to remove his boots and grab his shower gear when the tent flap was thrown open. Looking up, Jonny saw three young men, not much older than himself, enter and head straight for him. Jonny didn't know their names, but he's seen them around the facilities over the course of his extended stay.

"We want to talk with you, Quest." The first man said. He was taller than Jonny and well-muscled. He kept his hair short, similar to Temple's style, and his skin was darkened by a persistent tan. His eyes were dark brown and they currently reflected his sour mood.

Jonny stood and faced the intruders. "You got a problem?"

The leader strode forward and shoved him hard in the chest. "You're my problem, Quest."

"What the hell? I haven't done shit to you." Jonny growled.

"You're making us look bad in front of Temple."

"I highly doubt it's me that's making you look bad." Jonny shot back, seeing if his foes caught the subtle insult.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You obviously weren't recruited for your brains." Jonny sneered, balling his hands into fists. "Take a walk and figure it out."

"Not until we're done with you. Temple's little pet," The second boy laughed. "You're about to get yours."

Jonny kept his eyes on the main threat, but he saw the other boys circling around.

"I suggest you get the fuck out of here." Jonny growled.

"Like I said…"

Jonny didn't let him finish. He sprang forward, taking the fight to the boys and asserting himself as the aggressor. His fist connected with the kid's jaw and snapped his head backwards, causing him to stumble.

Pivoting, Jonny met the other threat as the second attacker lunged from the side. Thrusting his boot out in a straight on kick, Jonny landed a solid hit to the kid's sternum. Staggering, the kid bent over to clutch his stomach and Jonny dropped to the floor. Spinning, he swept the boy's legs, sending him spiraling backwards to crash into the cooler.

Popping back up, Jonny saw the leader's attack. Raising his arm to block, he hooked the kid's arm, but his midsection was exposed and he took a solid blow to the gut. Jonny felt the wind rush from his lungs. As he moved to regain his composure, his arms were hooked and pinned behind him by the third boy. Struggling in the kid's grasp, Jonny tried to break the hold, but the other kid was just as strong.

"Fucking punk." The leader spat then punched Jonny in the gut.

"You can't even fight fair." Jonny taunted and received a crack to his jaw for his troubles. He wavered, but was held up as the leader and the second young man alternated landing body blows to Jonny's torso.

Jonny's strength was quickly being zapped as the boys beat him mercilessly and eventually the third kid threw him to the floor. All Jonny could do was curl up and place his arms over his head, protecting himself from the flurry of kicks and punches that rained down on him.

Spots started to invade his vision. He could taste blood in his mouth. His body ached. Not knowing if the assault would ever end, Jonny closed his eyes, hoping the blackness would take him and his assailants would stop.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Temple roared. He stood in the entrance of the tent; his booming voice and commanding presence immediately caused the three attackers to stop.

"Temple, we…" The leader stammered.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hollering at the boys, Temple was on them in seconds. Snagging the second kid by the shirt, he yanked him backwards and threw him aside. He did the same with the third kid. Focused on the leader, Temple grabbed him by the front of his shirt and backhanded him across the face. The resulting crack reverberated off the metal tent poles.

In a daze, Jonny still managed a half smile; by the sound of the hit, he imagined Temple could have broken the kid's jaw.

"We were just…" The third kid started, but he was obviously afraid.

"You got a problem with Quest? He's your brother now. He's part of The Consortium."

"He's taking up all of the training resources." The first kid whined.

"Because he's fucking better than you. Better than all of you!" Temple shouted as he hit the kid again, but not as hard. "You want to excel, then be more like him."

"Sorry." The boys all mumbled.

Temple shoved the leader back towards the tent flap. "Get the fuck out of here. Now! I'll deal with you three later. Don't think this won't go unpunished."

As the three made a quick departure, Temple reached down to help Jonny up. "You okay, Jonny?" He asked, guiding Jonny onto his cot.

Jonny hurt, but he was more embarrassed at the moment. He tried to wave Temple off, "I'm fine."

"I'll get you some ice."

"I'll be fine, Greg." Jonny replied, but couldn't stop himself from wincing as he spoke.

"They did a number on you, kid. You need some ice. Just relax." Temple went to the cooler, retrieved a random plastic baggie from one of the shelves, filled it with ice and handed it over.

Jonny pressed the bag against the side of his face and wrapped his other hand around his stomach. "What was those assholes' problem anyways?"

"They're jealous, that's all. They see your potential and it makes them angry." Temple shook his head. "You're not going to have to worry about them anymore. I'll take care of it. This isn't how we treat our own in The Consortium. They'll have one chance to redeem themselves or else they're gone."

Jonny closed his eyes, he didn't want to ask what Temple meant by the last part of his statement.

Temple relaxed, but Jonny could tell he was still angry. "Take the rest of the night off, kid. Relax. I'll bring you something to eat later. We'll start back up tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Greg." Jonny muttered and fell back onto his cot.

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Race shuffled through a pile of shipping invoices taken from the office at the east docks in Baltimore. Studying the papers, he tried to decipher the information they contained, but most of the annotations appeared to be gibberish.

"This is all in code." Race stated with annoyance. "How the hell are we supposed to figure this stuff out?"

The rest of the team was assembled, minus Corbin and Roberts for the moment, and the other Agents glanced in Race's direction when he spoke.

"Some of the data we recovered off the servers in Pennsylvania match these codes." Altine offered. "The problem is going to be matching them together and figuring out what they mean."

"That asshole you shot in the raid at the plant managed to activate a virus to their system before you arrested him." Velk said to Race. "It wiped the hard drives on all of their workstations as well as the off-site servers."

"They've also shut down the auction website." Dugger grumbled. "We're trying to do an IP trace, but they were using proxy servers that bounced all over the world. Who would have thought these scumbags were that technically savvy."

"They're running a world-wide operation," Corbin stated as he walked in the conference room with Roberts right behind him. "To them it was a business and they had to protect that business."

"When I think about opening a business I think of a cupcake bakery." Dugger replied.

"You are a cupcake." Race joked.

Dugger guffed and rolled his eyes.

"What frightens me is the assumption that the cell we took down in Pennsylvania was just one of who knows how many." Race added.

"Maybe we need to approach this from a different angle." Karla stated.

"How so?" Corbin asked.

"I'm thinking these codes correspond not only with shipping information but also with financial transactions. We need to stop looking for the buyers outright. If we can trace their money, we can find them easier."

Race nodded, it was a good plan. "Have you figured anything out in regards to the money transactions?"

Karla frowned. "I'm still working it, but right now I see a number of data inputs that all have the same codes attached to the end. I'm thinking it could be similar to a routing number banking institutions use."

"If the money is being laundered through a particular bank, we can subpoena their records." Velk stated.

Phil shook his head, "Only if it's a stateside bank. Anything overseas that's not affiliated with a U.S. based financial center will require coordination with the locals."

"Well…officially at least." Race threw in.

Phil turned to look at him, "Yeah…officially. What exactly are you suggesting?"

Race smiled a little, "You know exactly what I'm suggesting, Phil. If we can decipher these codes and determine which bank they are using, I can go and do a little recon while you get the official coordination and paperwork settled. That way we'd have eyes on and at least know that it's not a false lead before you lobby the U.N. for assistance."

Race was itching to get back out in the field and Phil knew it. But he also knew that what Race suggested made sense…kind of. "I'm willing to go that route, but first we need to find the bank."

"Yes, Sir." Karla said and got back to scanning the documents.

"What about the vessel?" Race asked. "The Queensland Mother."

"We obtained the route and cargo load plans for the vessel from Maritime Services." Velk explained. "Unfortunately, once she reached international waters our satellites were out of cycle and we don't have any usable images to study."

"Maritime Services confirmed the ship sank, but the recovery operations and resulting investigation is still ongoing." Roberts threw in. "I was planning to swing by the U.S. Coast Guard's office at DHS headquarters to see if there has been any new developments before I head out."

"Where are you going?" Karla asked.

"Moscow." Terry replied, glancing slightly at Corbin as he did so.

"You two can talk about it later." Phil threw in. "Since it was brought up, we'll be down a team member for a while since Roberts is needed in Moscow for an unrelated tasking. That just means we have to work extra hard on resolving this investigation and finding Jonny."

Everyone nodded, but didn't say anything as there was no point in arguing with the Director.

"Terry, don't worry about going over to DHS. I'm already working it." Phil said.

Roberts nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"I'll be right back." Phil spoke then headed for the door.

"Where's he going?" Dugger posed the question to no one in particular.

Race shook his head then stood and followed behind Phil. He kept his distance and watched Corbin return to his office, speaking quickly with his assistant at her desk, then he shut the door. The blinds were already closed, so Race couldn't see what Phil was doing.

Acting as if he was headed for the break room, Race lingered and watched his friend's door. Ten minutes later, Phil emerged and started back towards the conference room.

Race intercepted him. "What was that all about?"

Race didn't think Phil was hiding anything, but he knew his friend could be secretive when he wanted or when he felt it was necessary. "I had to make a phone call."

"Phone call?" Race raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, a phone call." Phil answered, a bit perturbed.

"Why the secrecy?"

"It has nothing to do with you or the team, Race," Phil sighed as he answered. "It's my contact that gets nervous." Rubbing his chin he decided to give Race some of the answers he was seeking. "Like Matt said, we couldn't get any usable data from our own satellites. Earlier I called one of my contacts, saying I might need some assistance. Now that I know I do need that assistance I was calling back to arrange a meeting and pass along our request."

"When's the meeting? I'm going with you."

Phil raised a hand. "You can't. My contact will only meet with me. If anyone else is present, the meeting won't happen."

"I'll remain hidden. You need backup." Race countered.

"This contact is an old friend, Race. I'll be fine. Look, we need to keep at it here; decipher those codes and find that bank. My meeting isn't until later this evening, so don't worry about it. Like I said, I'll be fine."

Race frowned, but he could tell Phil wasn't going to give in. Having numerous contacts and associates of his own, he understood that some could be finicky and even panicky when a situation or a meet wasn't executed exactly as planned.

If Phil was working to gather data from an outside source, then Race had to accept that what the Director was doing was in the best interest of the investigation and Jonny. Phil was smart and had been in Intelligence Agent long enough to know how the game was played. Race just had to get back into the mindset of accepting the rules of the game.

Giving in, Race nodded, "Fine." He glanced at his watch and saw it was getting close to lunch time. "I'm going to give Jessie a call. See what the team wants for lunch. I'll buy."

"You don't have to do that." Phil remarked.

"I know I don't," Race grinned. "But this team is putting in some crazy hours and making a lot of sacrifices. First for Jessie and Jonny and now Jonny still. I owe them something, even if it is just lunch. And besides, we need to give Terry a little sendoff anyways."

"Alright." Phil said then headed back towards the conference room as Race hung back. Pulling his phone from his pocket he called his daughter's number.

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Jonny shifted and groaned as a result. He'd been lying on his cot all afternoon and his body still ached. His assailants had done a number on him and Jonny hadn't seen Temple since the man left earlier to deal with the three young men.

He attempted to sit up, but his head pounded in protest. Lying back down, Jonny closed his eyes, the resulting darkness helped alleviate some of the pain.

Drifting off to sleep, Jonny finally dreamt.

" _Hey, Ace," Jonny beamed. He stood in the doorway of Jessie's bedroom, watching her unpack._

 _They had just returned from their trip to New Orleans where they'd encountered a number of bizarre occurrences. Occurrences that were strange even by the Big Easy's standards._

" _Jonny, you've already unpacked?" Jessie paused as she looked at him._

 _He shrugged, his lop-sided grin causing Jessie to smile. "I'll do it later."_

" _Jonny Quest, the world's best procrastinator." Jessie laughed and returned to chore._

 _Stepping inside the room, Jonny closed the door. "Maybe, but that's not all I strive to be the best at, ya know."_

" _You strive to be the best at everything." Jessie replied._

" _Is that so bad?" Jonny asked, stepping closer to her._

 _Ever since Jessie had come to live with her father, Jonny was confused about his feelings for the redhead. They had immediately hit it off, becoming best friends and engaging in friendly competitions, but as they grew older Jonny had started to look at Jessie Bannon in a different light. While she was like her father in so many ways, she was also a woman; a woman that Jonny was quickly starting to fall in love with. He wanted to ask her out, but he'd always hesitated in the past._

 _Throwing caution to the wind, Jonny stepped behind her and gently placed his hands on her hips. No time like the present._

 _He felt her jump in surprise. "Jonny, what are you doing?"_

" _Jess," Jonny breathed, his voice low. "I've been wanting to be with you for some time."_

 _She turned in his grasp and gazed into his crystal blue eyes; they shone with magnificence and desire. "What are you talking about, Jonny?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper._

" _I want to be with you, Jessie. I.." He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. He felt her nervousness and tension, she didn't return the kiss._

" _Jonny, we shouldn't do this." She replied._

" _Why not?" He ran a finger softly over her cheek. "Do you not feel the same way? I thought you did."_

" _It's not that." Jessie said, but she hesitated._

 _Jonny dropped his hands and took a step back. "What is it then?"_

" _Jonny," She averted her eyes._

" _It's Hadji, isn't it?" Jonny frowned. "You're attracted to him, not me."_

" _What? No," Jessie stammered._

 _Scowling, Jonny wasn't sure how to feel. "I knew it. I saw the way you looked at him in New Orleans. At first I thought it was just a reaction to everything that was happening and that woman Elise, but that wasn't it, was it?"_

" _Jonny, what are you talking about? That's not true at all." Jessie shot back._

 _He shook his head, "Bullshit, Jess."_

" _Hey!" Jessie countered._

" _Typical, Jess, real typical." He spat in return._

 _Jessie's eyes went wide. She couldn't understand why he was acting so foolishly. "What on earth has gotten into you, Jonny?"_

" _You led me on!" Jonny raised his voice. "This whole time I thought you and I had a connection, a spark. But it wasn't for me, it was for my brother!"_

" _Why are you acting this way, Jonny? When did I ever lead you on?" She was starting to get angry and it showed as she took a step towards him._

 _Backing off, Jonny threw up his hands. "Forget it. It was stupid of me to even come in here. Stupid to think you actually cared about me."_

" _I do care about you! We're best friends!"_

" _Friend zone, huh?" Jonny snickered. "I wanted to be more than just friends with you, Jess. I always have, but I guess the feeling isn't mutual, is it?"_

" _Stop this, Jonny." Jessie demanded._

 _Reaching for the door, Jonny flung it open with such force that it smacked against the wall. "I'm out of here."_

" _Jonny, wait!" Jessie cried, but he was already out the door and headed down the hall. Running into the hall, she watched as he descended the stairs before disappearing off into another part of the house._

" _What the hell just happened?" Jessie said out loud._

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Sitting in his car, Phil watched the parking garage from the darkened corner. He'd chosen this particular spot on purpose and backed into the space. The last thing he wanted was someone sneaking up on him.

 _'Relax,'_ He told himself with a smirk. _'This isn't some spy movie.'_ But he chuckled at the situation. He, the Director of the most secretive Intelligence organization in the country, was meeting an NSA contact in a darkened parking structure.

Peering through the windshield, he saw his contact emerge from the elevator, a little bit of light illuminating the woman as she made her way towards Phil. Stepping out of his car, Phil moved around to the passenger side and positioned himself between his vehicle and the wall. Brushing his suit jacket aside, he placed his hand on his sidearm, ready to draw if necessary.

"You're right to be paranoid, Phil, but not of me." The contact said as she stopped at the front of his car. Shooting the Director a grin, she said, "And what's with the cloak and dagger games?"

The woman stood around five feet nine inches and had a slender build; her auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore thin rimmed glasses, slacks, a dark blouse and a light jacket. Phil could tell the woman wasn't use to carrying a weapon, she was an analyst after all, and she stood awkwardly due to the handgun she had concealed behind her back. Phil smirked and removed his hand from his weapon, but he still kept his own posture ready to react if necessary.

"I'm just being cautious. And you need to be more careful about how you walk, Annie," Phil replied. "I could tell you were armed the moment you exited the elevator."

"Here I thought we were meeting to discuss a ship, not my posture." Reaching into her jacket, she withdrew a large manila envelope and handed it to Phil.

He opened the folder and removed a couple of the satellite images that were tucked inside. "What's this?"

"Your cargo vessel," Annie replied. "As you can see, it does appear that ship sank, all hands lost. But it obviously didn't sink on its own."

Phil frowned as he studied the photos. Placing them back inside the folder, he held it in his hand. "Thank you, Annie. I know you're taking a big risk doing this for me. I'll look at the rest of this later."

"In this world, it's hard to find trustworthy and loyal friends. I'm happy to say that you are one of them. You and your people, you help those that cannot help themselves. Most people in this town are out for themselves first and foremost."

Phil smiled a little. "Just watch your back, Annie. This information," He smacked the folder with his other hand, "this changes things. Just be careful."

"You too, Phil. The Consortium has eyes everywhere. Even here in our nation's capital."

Phil paused. "The what?"

"The Consortium."

"Never heard of it." He confessed.

"Be careful, Phil. They're watching Intelligence One. They're watching you and Race Bannon even more so. Please, watch your back, hon."

Phil nodded.

Annie turned and left. Phil watched her go. She'd given him more than he had asked for when he first arranged for the meeting. _'I need to get this back to Race.'_ He told himself as he climbed behind the wheel of his car. Starting the engine, he pulled out of the spot and headed back towards Headquarters, his mind filtering through a million questions, with the most important one being, _what is The Consortium?_

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Jonny's eyes opened slowly. Anger built up inside of him. He should have known it was all a lie. He'd seen the fed flags, but not until now, not until the truth had been shoved in his face had he finally accepted it. Jessie used him. Sure they had eventually started dating, sure they had shared themselves with each other on multiple occasions, but she was using him. Probably just for sex Jonny concluded.

He forced himself to sit up; forced the physical and the emotional pain away. He couldn't remain cooped up with nothing but his thoughts any longer. Temple said he needed rest, but the last thing he wanted was to fall back to sleep at the moment.

Standing up, he shuffled his way towards the threshold of the tent. His muscles ached, but the further along he went, the more his body began to relax.

He stepped out into the night and headed for Kreed's tent, determined to find Temple. Entering the larger, more luxurious space, Jonny was hit with the scent of burning incense and tea.

"Hello?" He called out, not wanting to intrude into the back uninvited.

A moment later, Kreed emerged from the rear. He was partially dressed, naked from the waist up and Jonny saw that the burns on his neck travelled down his body, covering a good portion of his chest and upper arm. On his unmarred arm, he had a tattoo that was the same emblem as the one on his pistol; the same pistol that was currently holstered on the side of his belt.

"What do you want?" Kreed asked, his usual elegant flare was missing as he spoke.

"I'm looking for Greg." Jonny answered.

"He said you were resting for the evening. Why are you up?" His tone softened slightly. If Kreed was embarrassed by his scars he didn't show it.

"I couldn't sleep anymore. I need to be doing something. I need to be active." Jonny replied.

"Hold on." Kreed disappeared into the back. Jonny could hear him speaking and a moment later a crackle from a walkie-talkie.

Kreed came back and reported, "He is on his way. Why don't you come in back and wait."

Jonny hesitated, but the look on Kreed's face told him it wasn't a request. Jonny followed behind the Englishman reluctantly.

Kreed's living space was extravagant to say the least. Jonny was reminded of pictures and movies he had seen of ancient times where military and political leaders set up inside luxurious tents with all the comforts of home. He noticed that Kreed didn't even have a cot, but an actual bed. It was small, but it had a mattress and plush blankets. The floor was covered by throw rugs and a table, covered with books and the burning incense holder, was tucked into the rear of the tent. The only thing that clashed with the image were the utilitarian desk and chair in the center of the room. Atop the desk was a laptop, computer monitor, walkie-talkie and a number of folders with papers sticking out from the edges.

Jonny summation of Kreed's role in the operation appeared to be correct. Temple was the muscle and trainer, while Kreed handled the business end of the operation.

"Take a seat, young Jonathan. Mister Temple will be here momentarily." Kreed produced a folding chair and set it down for Jonny. As he sat, Jonny watched Kreed return to his workstation.

The silence was uncomfortable. Jonny felt compelled to speak. "So, Mister Kreed. How much longer am I going to be here?"

"Until your training is complete." Kreed answered immediately. "Or until the board requires your services."

"Who is on this board?"

Kreed peered around the edge of his monitor and smiled at Jonny. His teeth were perfect. "A number of your old friends."

"What does that mean?" Jonny asked.

"You'll learn soon enough."

"What does The Consortium want? What's our end game?"

"Always full of questions, aren't you, Jonathan?"

"My dad always said I was inquisitive." Jonny replied.

"Your father is an intelligent man, Jonathan. It's a shame he is working for the wrong side, however."

"You really believe that?"

"Don't you?" Kreed sighed and gave his full attention to Jonny. "With everything we've shown you, you still have doubts?"

"It's not that. He's my father." Jonny argued.

"Your father works for the U.S. Government and Intelligence One." Kreed stated matter-of-factly.

"No, he doesn't. He's done work for them, sure, but he's not employed by them."

"Is that not the same thing?"

Jonny thought about the question. In a way, he could see Kreed's point. "I never thought of it that way. But you make it sound as if it's a bad thing."

"Of course it's a bad thing, Jonathan."

"I've always thought that Intelligence One was doing the right thing."

"Your thinking has been influenced by Race Bannon and those he works for. Intelligence One, at its core, is a spy organization. Its interests lie purely in obtaining secrets and using those secrets to its advantage."

"Isn't that what you do?" Jonny shot back, remembering Kreed's tale from when Jonny first arrived.

Kreed grinned at Jonny's question. "Not really."

Jonny opened his mouth to continue the conversation, but Temple entered from the front of the tent at the same time. Jonny didn't like the look on his face. And he couldn't be sure, due to the low lighting in the tent, but it appeared there were blotches of blood on his shirt.

"Are you okay?" Jonny asked, immediately concerned.

"I'm fine," Temple replied. "What are you doing out of your cot?"

"I couldn't sleep. I needed to get some air and clear my head."

"Jonathan and I have been having a discussion while we waited for you, Gregory." Kreed stated with a smile.

"Yeah? About what?"

"Business that's all." Kreed answered cryptically then returned to his work.

Temple placed a hand on Jonny' shoulder. "Come on, Hotshot."

Jonny stood. He kept his eyes on Kreed for a moment, but when the Brit didn't acknowledge him, Jonny sighed and followed Temple out of the tent.

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"How'd your meet up go?" Race asked when Phil stepped back into the conference room.

Dugger, Velk, and Brooks were still there, but Roberts and Altine were gone for the moment. Race gave Altine a short break so she could have dinner with Roberts. Terry planned to go back to Montana to visit his parents and sister for a few weeks prior to leaving for Russia.

Phil shook his head. Sitting down he dumped the contents off the manila folder onto the table then pushed some of the photos towards Race.

"What the hell is this?" Race looked up from one of the photos.

"My contact obtained these satellite images of the Queensland Mother. As you can see the vessel was boarded prior to it sinking."

The images were time stamped and showed the progression of a battle taking place onboard the ship's deck. Black clad gunmen moved in tactical formations along the deck, gunning down the ship's crew as they attempted to flee or hide. The images were taken from a distance, making it impossible to make out the identities of any of the gunmen.

Phil held up one of the photos; it showed the ship's helipad and a sleek black helicopter. "After the massacre this helicopter landed."

He set the photo down, then used his pen to point at a figure. "This man emerged, but since the images were taken from such a distance it'll be next to impossible to identify him."

"That bird has no tail number." Brooks pointed out.

"I know, which leads me to believe we won't be able to trace a flight path for it either as it probably never entered one." Phil grumbled.

Picking up the next photo, he slid it across the table to Race. Race's eyes immediately took in the images and he looked back up at Phil.

"That's Jonny!" Race exclaimed. Even from a distance he could tell it was Jonny Quest.

"Proof of life." Phil nodded. "They loaded him, another boy and one of the gunmen into the helicopter. After it took off, the rest of the gunmen scuttled the ship before fleeing on their own watercraft."

"How did you get these?" Race asked, scenarios playing out in his mind as to Jonny's fate.

"I have a friend in the NSA that obtained these images. Our satellites are on a cycled rotation that correlates with NSA satellites. As soon as I found out that our systems didn't pick up the ship, I contacted my friend and asked for her help, knowing their satellites probably did. It was a long shot, but it worked."

Race nodded his thanks to his friend. "Now what?"

Looking around the table, Phil said, "You guys take a break. Race, meet me in my GOC office in ten minutes. There's something I need your help with in there."

The Agents all nodded. Phil gathered up the photos of their latest discovery, put them away, and then headed out.

Ten minutes later, Race was seated in Phil's GOC office. Phil was perched on the side of his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

"What's with the secrecy, Phil?"

Phil shook his head. "It's not that I don't trust the team, I do wholeheartedly, but my contact mentioned something else. Something went off in my head that told me to keep the information as close hold as possible; mainly for the safety of others."

"What is it?" Race sometimes wished Phil would get straight to the point.

"During your years with Benton have you ever heard of something called The Consortium?"

His brow furrowed as he thought, but eventually he shook his head and answered, "No, not that I can recall. What is it?"

"I don't know. I've never heard of it either and that bothers me." Phil replied.

Race knew why. Corbin wasn't the type of man that liked being caught off guard with information that could affect national or international security. "What do you think it is?"

"The way my contact spoke was weird. It's like she was afraid; spooked by just saying that name. I think whoever those men were that took Jonny from that ship are part of this thing called The Consortium."

"A new terror group, maybe." Race thought some more about it. "But if that's true, if The Consortium, whatever it is, took Jonny, the next question is why did they take him?"

"As a hostage maybe?"

"But we haven't received any demands."

"Neither has Benton, he would have informed me if he had." Phil stated.

"Piece those pictures together and what story do they tell?" Race was thinking aloud. "I don't think they sunk the ship to cover up the massacre of the crew. I think they sunk it to cover up the fact that they took Jonny and that other boy. They wanted Jonny for something and it wasn't ransom. The time stamps on those pictures were from almost a month ago, Phil. What have they been doing with him this whole time?" Race felt himself getting angry. He slammed a fist into his open palm. "This whole time we've been chasing the wrong bad guys!"

Phil felt for his friend. "I don't think all is lost, Race. Those men found Jonny's location somehow. I'm thinking we are still on the right track with the financial institutions. The Consortium could have ties to the traffickers and therefore the banks. It's the only way they could have known about Jonny."

Race nodded.

Phil stood. "Look, keep this between us for right now. No one else needs to know about it till we can learn more. Hell, it could be nothing at all."

"I don't believe that, Phil, and neither do you."

Sighing, Phil ran his hands over his face. "You're right, Race, I don't." Glancing at his watch, he said, "We leave first thing in the morning for Maine."

"I want to take a look at all the evidence one more time before I call it a night."

"Agreed." Phil said then motioned towards the door. "Let's get back at it."

Race exited and Phil followed. Armed with a stack of new information, Race was frustrated and angered, but his gut was telling him that Jonny was definitely still alive. And if he was alive, that meant he could be found.

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The next day, Phil pulled the vehicle over to the side of the road. Having landed at the private airstrip I-1 used when meeting with Doctor Quest, Phil, along with Race and the Agent assigned to Hadji, had commandeered one of the standby vehicle and headed out.

Race exited the vehicle, his face brightening when he saw Jessie and Estella through the restaurant's large window. He wasn't happy about having to meet them out in town, but Benton was still on edge and Race knew Phil would give Benton the progress report. If nothing else, it gave Race time to concentrate on his daughter and ex, even if only for a short time.

"I'll text you when we're heading back this way." Phil told his friend through the open window. "Take your time though. Don't feel like you have to rush. The jet is standing by and if I get an update I'll let you know immediately."

Race nodded, "Thanks, Phil."

"We can all use a little time to decompress. Tell Jess and Estella I said hello, alright?"

"You don't want to come in real quick?" Race asked.

Phil shook his head, "This is your time with your family, Race."

"Thanks, partner."

Race watched the SUV pull away, heading off to Benton's residence. Once it rounded the next corner and disappeared, Race made his way inside.

The Italian restaurant was cozy. It was one of Jessie's favorite spots. There was still some time before the lunch rush, hence why it was fairly empty. Race felt a warmth inside his chest when he saw Jessie look in his direction, her face immediately lighting up when she saw him. Jumping from her seat, she made a bee line straight for him and collided against his chest, wrapping her arms around him in a powerful embrace.

"Dad!" She gushed. "I'm so glad you came."

"Same here, Ponchita." Race said as they separated, kissing her on top of the head. Leading him back to the table, Race greeted Estella warmly with a peck on the cheek as he and Jessie sat down.

"Race, you look exhausted." Estella stated, "But it's good to see you."

"Likewise, Stell."

A waitress came over and placed a glass of water on the table for Race. After she departed, Race asked, "Have you ordered yet?"

"We were waiting on you." Estella answered.

Race nodded. Looking at the menu he made a selection. The waitress returned and took their orders.

Once they were alone again, Jessie asked, "So what's the latest?"

Race tried not to frown. He knew his daughter wanted nothing more than to see Jonny again, but Race also wanted to make sure she was healing. Deciding to get business out of the way first, he answered, "We captured some more bad guys involved in the entire operation. The team is back in D.C. pouring through the evidence we've collected. Phil went to give Benton the same updates."

"So still no sign of Jonny?" Jessie's eyes were sad.

"No, Ponchita," Race's heart broke. "But we have some concrete leads."

Estella eyed her ex, sipping her water casually. She'd known Race too long and could tell he was holding back, but she assumed that whatever information he was reluctant to reveal would only cause their daughter to stress even more.

"What's the next step?" Estella asked.

"I can't stay long. I have to go back to D.C. and get back at it. I might not be able to see you both again for a while. I'm getting ready to head overseas."

"Where to?" Estella inquired.

Race shook his head, "I don't know. And even if I did, I couldn't tell you. Just know that I'm doing everything in my power to find Jonny. Phil is going to stay behind at Headquarters and he'll keep you and Benton updated on our progress. As soon as he knows what I know, then you will know."

The waitress returned with their food. Eating in relative silence, Race didn't realize just how hungry he was. He'd finished his plate of lasagna before the redheads were half way through their own meals.

Setting his utensils down, he took a sip of water, then looked at his daughter. She was recovering, but he still recognized the signs of turmoil in her features and body language, no matter how hard she tried to mask it. "Jessie, I know Hadji is getting ready to leave for a while. Are you going to be okay?"

Jessie looked away. "I'll be fine, dad."

"Honey," Estella started, "Your father is just concerned about you. We all are."

Suddenly she wanted to scream at her mother. But instead she inhaled and exhaled, utilizing the meditation techniques Hadji had shown her. Looking at her parents, she answered, "I swear I'll be fine. It's hard, it really is, not being out there with you, dad. But I understand why I can't go with you."

"I want you safe, Ponchita and right now the safest place for you to be is with your mother and Doctor Quest."

"I know."

"Have you talked to anyone about…about what happened?" Race asked gently.

Estella placed a hand on Race's forearm and when he glanced at her, she shook her head a little. Race didn't like it. Jessie needed to talk about what happened to her or else it would slowly eat away at her from the inside. Giving his ex a look that said _'You and I will talk about this in private'_ Race decided that perhaps now was not the best time to push Jessie into talking, but he wasn't about to let it go either.

"Ponchita, I love you and it pains me to see you so torn up. If you're not ready to talk to your mom or Benton, at least think about talking to someone else."

"I don't want to see a shrink, dad. I don't need a shrink." Jessie shot back, keeping her voice low, but firm.

"It doesn't have to be a Doctor. Just someone. Just find someone that you can talk to, okay? That's all I'm asking."

Jessie held his gaze, seeing his love and concern. She didn't want to talk about it, not yet, but just hearing her father speak, she realized he was right. She decided she'd give it an honest try. "Okay, dad. I'll try. I promise." Then putting on a smile, she asked, "So can we now talk about something else? We don't have a lot of time with you."

"Sure, kiddo. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing in particular."

"We're just happy you were able to come up, Race." Estella threw in with a smile.

"Same here." Race agreed.

"So, these bad guys," Jessie started. "I bet you gave them a good ass whoopin'!"

"Jessica!" Estella sounded horrified.

Race chuckled, "Something like that, sweetheart."

"I've started doing some training myself," Jessie replied. "It'll be harder now that Hadji is leaving since he was my sparring partner, but I'll keep doing whatever I can. Maybe I can go to one of the local gyms? That could help, right?"

Race nodded, "Of course. Exercise is a great stress reliever."

"I don't know," Estella pined.

"Come on, mom!" Jessie rolled her eyes.

Race gave Estella a look that told her to drop the subject. Estella sighed, but acquiesced. "Fine. We can look into some of the different programs tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal." Jessie smiled which caused Race to smile too.

As the conversation died down, Race's phone chirped. Retrieving it from his pocket, he saw the message was from Phil. "It looks like Phil is finishing up back at the mansion. He'll be around to pick me up in a little bit."

Setting the phone down, Race asked his daughter, "You want some dessert?"

"Yes! This place makes the best cannoli in all of Rockport."

Race beamed as he waved the waitress over. He ordered the dessert and also placed an order for two large pizzas to go for Phil and the pilots. He'd probably end up eating some himself too, he was already hungry again.

Thirty minutes later, Race stood outside the restaurant with the only two women in his life that matter at the moment. Pizzas in hand, they watched as Phil pulled up to the curb. Stepping out of the SUV, he came over and greeted the family. Estella notice Corbin looked as tired as Race did; her compassion for the men and what they must be experiencing flooded her with an overwhelming feeling of sadness.

"I got some food for you and the guys on the plane." Race said as he handed the boxes over.

"Thanks," Phil replied and put the pizzas in the back seat of the vehicle. "We should be getting back. Agent Altine called me a few minutes ago. She thinks they might have deciphered one of the codes."

"Excellent." Race nodded. Turning towards his daughter, he wrapped Jess up in a big hug. "I'll talk to you as soon as I can, Ponchita. I promise. I love you more than anything else in the world, you know that, right?"

"Of course, dad." Jessie's voice choked up a bit. "Just be safe out there. And bring Jonny back to us."

"I will, Jess. I will." Releasing her, he held her at arm's length and looked her in the eyes. "Do me a favor. Take care of your mother and Doctor Quest, okay?"

Jessie flushed. "I will, dad."

Race smiled and hugged her again. Then he moved to Estella and lowered his voice, "Watch after her, Stell."

Estella nodded, "Of course."

Kissing her cheek he said, "I love you."

"I love you too, Roger."

With that he gave Phil a nod that he was ready. Phil made his way around the front of the vehicle. Calling out to the women he said, "Don't worry about Race. I'll look after him and make sure he stays out of trouble. As best as I can anyways."

Jessie giggled and waved to her father and godfather. Estella did the same. Then the vehicle roared to life and the two redheads watched as they made a U-turn in the middle of the street and drove back down the direction they'd come, heading back to the airport.

Jessie watched as her father departed. He was back on the hunt and she hoped the next time she saw him it was when Race returned with her blue eyed angel, Jonny Quest.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Jessie found herself in her father's office. She'd been so happy she was able to see him, even if it was just a couple of hours, before he had to leave. Race had looked well, tired, but well. Jessie knew her dad would never give up in searching for Jonny and seeing the dead-set determination in his eyes at lunch the day prior solidified for Jessie that she had to do her part too.

Moving behind his desk, she glanced at the photos and decorations that hung on the wall. Seeing her dad's accomplishments so prominently displayed always caused her to swell with pride for being the daughter of the infamous "Race" Bannon.

Her eyes fell on one of her favorite pictures on the wall. It showed her dad along with a group of eight other men, including Phil Corbin and Peter Dugger, gathered around a large military combat vehicle; snow covered mountains rose in the background under a clear blue sky. The men stood or knelt in front of the vehicle and her dad was sitting on the hood, his legs dangling over the side; Corbin stood off to the side of Race's leg, his arms crossed and cradling what Jessie knew was an M14. All the men were dressed in an assortment of camouflage fatigues; Race and a few others were also wearing black watch caps. Each man was armed with either a rifle or a handgun, most had both. Her father held his M4 with the barrel pointed skyward, the stock propped against his leg. They were all smiling.

Race never told Jessie the details of the mission, only that it had taken place in Afghanistan. From the youthfulness of the men's features, Jessie had concluded that the photo was taken when she was just a child.

"Jessie, what are you doing in here?"

Yanked from her thoughts, Jessie turned at the sound of her mother's voice. Estella stood in the doorway and walked in when Jessie looked back at her.

"I was just looking, that's all." Jessie remarked with a shrug. "I like looking at dad's photos and awards."

Estella smiled. She stood on the opposite side of the desk, "I know how you feel, honey. I do too."

"Do you know anything about this picture?" Jessie pointed at the one she was studying.

Jessie witnessed a subtle flicker in her mother's eyes. Sighing, Estella sat down in a chair. "They were in Afghanistan. Your father never really discussed the details of his missions, but I know that picture was taken before they headed north somewhere. Of the nine men in that picture, only five survived that mission. One of the survivor's lost a leg."

"What? Dad never told me that." Jessie replied with remorse.

"He hated talking about it. He was a changed man when he returned, honey. Like I said, I don't know the details of why they were there. All I know is that something bad happened and your dad's friends were killed." Estella sighed heavily as she continued, "It wasn't long after that mission that your dad and I got divorced. We were so young, Jess. We didn't know how to effectively communicate our feelings with each other. Things got bad between him and me, but your dad never stopped loving you."

They were quiet for some time. Jessie returned to examining her father's belongings, watching her mother from the corner of her eye; Estella appeared lost in her thoughts.

Five or so minutes later, Estella shook her head and stood. "I need to run into town for a few things. Would you care to join me?"

Jessie smiled, but shook her head. "I kind of just want to stay here for right now. I was thinking of going to see what Doctor Quest is working on in the lab. Rain check?"

Estella was disappointed, but she managed a little smile. Jessie was still reserved, but at least she was out of her room, socializing and interacting again. _'Small steps.'_ Estella reminded herself.

"Okay, honey. Maybe tomorrow we can go do something together, just the two of us."

"Sure, mom." Jessie agreed.

With a nod, Estella left her ex-husband's office. Jessie waited and after a few moments walked to the door. Sticking her head out, she saw her mom round the corner at the end of the hall. Stepping back in, Jessie shut the door.

She moved back to her father's desk. Facing the wall where the pictures and awards hung, she crouched down in front of the customized bookshelf-dresser combo. Opening one of the dresser doors, Jessie nodded at the little safe that was hidden inside.

Race had given her the combination in case she ever needed to get into it in the event something happened to him. As she entered the code, she hoped her dad hadn't actually changed it and exhaled a sigh of relief when the indicator light turned green before the audible click was heard.

Glancing back at the door, Jessie paused just long enough to ensure her mother wasn't returning. Once she was satisfied, she looked into the safe and pulled out the item she was thankful was still inside.

It was Race's old I-1 laptop.

She took the laptop and charger then shut the safe. Tucking the items under her arm, she went to the door and slowly opened it. Peering out, she saw she was still alone. Exiting her dad's office, she shut the door behind her and made her way to her own bedroom.

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"What the hell?" Temple grumbled when he saw Kreed's jeep, along with a military style cargo truck, approaching.

Jonny looked in the direction of the vehicles kicking up clouds of dust and sand as they rumbled through the dessert.

Standing, Jonny followed Temple to their own vehicle. Opening the back of the 4-Runner, Jonny retrieved a bottle of water and snapped his fingers at his mentor.

Temple chuckled and handed Jonny a packet. By the time Kreed pulled up behind them, Jonny had consumed the entire drink and tossed the empty bottle into the back of the vehicle.

Kreed stepped from the passenger side of his own jeep. Wiping the sweat from his brow he handed Temple an envelope, "Orders, Mister Temple."

Smiling, Temple opened the folder. He did a quick scan of the documents, then shoved them back into the folder. Jerking his chin at the cargo truck he asked, "Is it all there?"

"Yes." Kreed replied, motioning for them to follow.

Moving to the back of the truck, Temple climbed in, Jonny right on his heels. Inside sat two black boxes. Opening them, Jonny saw they were filled with weapons.

"Gun running again?" Temple grumbled with a look at Kreed who had not joined them inside the bed of the vehicle.

"And this." Kreed smiled.

Jonny saw Andrew come over and hand Kreed a small, hard plastic case. Tossing it up, Temple caught the box in his big hands.

"That is the real delivery, Gregory."

"Is this what I think it is?" Temple asked. He didn't open the case.

Kreed nodded.

"And you just threw it to me like it's a damn baseball?!" He did not mask his displeasure.

"It's perfectly safe inside that case, Mister Temple. Relax." Kreed waved his hand. "Return to the camp with us. You leave at midnight."

Kreed went back to his vehicle with Andrew. Jumping out of the bed, Jonny's feet sank into the thick sand. He followed Temple as Kreed and the cargo vehicle headed out.

"Go pack up the gear." Temple ordered.

"Where are you going?" Jonny asked.

Temple shook his head, "You're coming with me, Hotshot. Your first mission. The real excitement is about to begin."

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"What've you got?" Race asked the moment he stepped into the GOC conference room with Corbin. They had returned from the trip to Maine and Race was anxious to get the latest update from the rest of the team.

"Sir," Altine started once the two senior Agents were seated. "We were able to decipher some of the coded communiques and we believe we've uncovered the banking information."

"Go on," Race pushed.

"Working with the evidence from Baltimore and the traffickers databanks we pieced together fragments of multiple files and data packets, but as of yet we have not recovered a complete, uncorrupted file. Whatever type of virus that command code activated, it was unlike any I've ever seen before."

"Okay," Race had heard all this information before. Looking at the wall mounted displays, he saw a string of numbers appear on the screen, each being linked by arrows to a short string of numbers and letters.

"The fragmented files we decoded appear to be transmittal codes. Piecing them together, we've determined with a ninety five percent accuracy rating, that the numbers are actually bank accounts and routing numbers. We tied that information in with what the buyer stated in his confession. We believe we've linked four of the bank accounts to four separate buyers from the auction website."

"Have you identified the buyers yet?" Race asked, hoping at least one was linked to Jonny's initial buyer or even better, The Consortium.

Altine frowned, "We're still working on that."

Race studied the screen then asked, "What's the second code next to the buyer's ID?"

Brooks interjected at that point, "We believe those codes identify the child that was being sold." He scowled visibly as he spoke.

Race shook his head, he was both amazed and disgusted by the amount of detail and planning that went into the traffickers' business. "Do we know which code is associated with Jonny?"

"No, Sir, not yet." Altine was unable to mask the disappointment in her voice. "We've been combing through the data, working the most recent transactions backwards in an attempt to link banking codes with buyers as well as decipher the codes used to identify the children. One thing to note is that we've found more codes for children than photos from the gas station."

"This has been going on for years." Corbin grumbled. "And this is only one cell we've discovered. Who knows how many more are out there."

Race nodded. The despicable and deplorable actions of these criminals turned his stomach sour and the fact that so many kids have gone missing, never to be discovered either alive or dead, infuriated him. But at the moment, his mind was focused squarely on recovering Jonny. He'd made a promise to Benton and he planned to keep that promise, no matter the consequences.

Brooks continued, "We traced two of the bank accounts to a major financial institution in Rome."

Velk handed a folder to Race and Corbin each. Opening it, Race studied the dossier of a Signor Basilio Martucci. Closing the folder, he looked up as the information on the monitor changed from the bank accounts and identification codes to Martucci's file. Race studied the face of Basilio Martucci. Dressed in an expensive Italian suit, Martucci was a man in his late fifties; a disgusting smirk on his pudgy, tanned face. His hair was thinning and appeared to be dyed jet black. Dark eyes stared out from behind circular rimmed glasses. His nose was long and pointy; his lips thin. Overall, he was a relatively unremarkable looking man, but Race saw something in the eyes. Martucci's eyes revealed a weasel of a man, overconfident and snobbish. Race smiled, he'd have no problem breaking the slime ball.

Velk explained. "Basilio Martucci works at Banca Centrale di Roma near Vatican City where these accounts are maintained and is the primary signatory for both accounts. Looking at his background, you can see he's a slimy as he looks. He's been investigated for embezzlement, money laundering, drug trafficking, and most notably solicitation of sex acts with a minor."

"No wonder he's in league with these traffickers. But how is this guy still employed at one of the largest financial institutions in the city?" Race asked with a sneer.

"Nothing ever stuck." Velk snorted and rolled his eyes. "Could have something to do with his alleged ties to the Mafia."

"The mob? Those guys usually don't tolerate child molesters within their ranks." Race stated.

"No they don't," Phil remarked as he tapped his finger on a particular paragraph in Martucci's profile. "Unless the one who likes to touch little kids is the son of a high ranking Mafioso, which Martucci just happens to be."

"Great." Race moaned. "The last thing we need is the mob."

"I think Martucci's mob association is just a coincidence." Phil said, exchanging a look with Bannon. Race agreed with his friend; this Martucci character could be associated with The Consortium. And even if he wasn't directly a member, he'd probably know how to contact it in the event the mysterious organization was one of the traffickers' customers.

"What else?" Race asked as he flipped through the paperwork.

"Martucci has money, a lot of it." Velk replied. "He's a collector of antique and classic cars from all over the world. They say one of his favorites is his 1969 Chevrolet Corvette ZL-1 427 2 door Coupe."

"He has one of those?" Dugger asked, finally speaking up. "There was like only five of those ever made."

Velk nodded, "Three actually. I looked it up."

"Well, you know I like cars. That could be my way in." Race said as he looked at Phil.

Corbin closed the folder. Placing his hands on top of it, he addressed the team. "Alright, here's the plan. I'll make the flight arrangements, but I want you on the first thing smoking in the morning from Andrews Air Force Base to Germany. Once you hit Frankfurt, your mission will be to travel to Rome and find this Martucci character."

"Why Germany, Sir?" Altine asked out of curiosity.

Race answered. "If anyone finds out about this investigation and I fly straight to Rome they could tip off Martucci before I arrive. Flying to Frankfurt will not only give the impression that our sights are set elsewhere, but it gives you guys time to build a backstory for me. That way, if Martucci is suspicious and decides to look me up, he'll find what we want him to find."

"Welcome the world of international espionage, Karla." Dugger laughed.

"What about Jonny?" She asked after shooting Pete a smirk.

"We know Jonny is alive," Phil stated. "Whoever has him is keeping him alive for reasons we don't yet know. Going after Martucci is the next step in the search. While Race is in transit and active in Europe, our search for Jonny will continue back here."

"Is it wise to send Bannon alone?" Dugger asked. "No offense, partner, but it never hurts to have backup."

"This case is too sensitive to have two of you over there right now." Phil answered. "If another lead comes up, you'll be next in the chute, Pete. Don't worry, you'll get your chance to bash some bad guy's skull in soon enough."

"Good. I've been getting restless." Dugger remarked.

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Race shielded his eyes against the midday sun. Bending down, he took his sunglasses out of his aviator bag and put them on.

Standing on the tarmac, he watched the C5 flight crew finalizing their pre-flight inspections. Once complete, they began to load their cargo. After the pallets were secured Race would be allowed to board. He would be the only passenger on the flight.

Corbin joined his friend a few minutes later. He handed Race a folder that he immediately tucked it into his bag.

"Your backstory." Phil stated the obvious. "You'll have plenty of time on the flight and subsequent travel to Rome, if you take the train, to memorize it."

"Thanks." Race nodded.

"It took Velk and Dugger all night to come up with it, but its convincing for sure." Phil said.

"You think this Martucci will know about The Consortium?" Race questioned. "You don't think this is a wild goose chase, Corbin?"

"I don't think so, Race." Phil said. "My gut is telling me this guy is involved. He might be low level, but even a low level slimeball can give you something to work off of."

Race nodded his agreement. "Agreed."

"Remember, if you find out anything about The Consortium, contact me through secure means. You've been granted access to the safe houses in the area."

"I will." Race said.

The crew chief was headed their way. Corbin turned to Race, "Good luck, Bannon. Hopefully the next time I see you'll have Jonny with you."

"That's the plan, Corbin. Come Hell or high water."

The crew chief looked at the two men then said, "We're ready for you, Sir."

Race nodded as the Airman grabbed Race's duffle bag, slung it over his shoulder then headed back to towards the plane.

Extending his hand towards his friend, Race waited till Corbin took it then said, "Do me a favor, Phil. Watch over Jessie and Estella for me, okay?"

"Don't worry, Race. I'll take care of them."

"No matter what?" Race asked.

"No matter what, my friend." Phil nodded. Letting go of Race's hand, Phil slapped him on the shoulder then cocked his head. "Get going before they leave your ass behind. You know how finicky flyboys can be."

Race smiled. Picking up his aviator bag, he turned then trotted after the crew chief.

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Jonny squinted and placed his sunglasses on his nose as he stepped out of the vehicle. Hefting his rifle into the pocket of his shoulder, keeping it at the low ready, he sneered as the heat assaulted him. Even as the weeks passed, Jonny still hadn't gotten used to the intense heat of these desert locations.

Joining Temple at the back of the SUV, he proclaimed, "It's hot as fuck out here."

"They say this is an insane heat wave they're experiencing, the worst in decades."

"Well, let's get this over with and get out of here." Jonny grumbled.

"What did I teach you about patience? That's your problem. You're too impulsive and hot headed like that fool Race. This is the real deal now, Hotshot. We're not in training anymore. Now the bullets are real. So watch your back and mine too."

"Of course." Jonny nodded. "I've got your back."

"Good. Take this." He handed Jonny the small hard case, zippered shut. "But be careful."

"What is it?" Jonny asked as he tucked the case into his cargo pocket.

"Like Lucius said, it's what we're really here to deliver."

"What about the guns?"

"Guns ain't shit, Jonny. What's in that case is what's really going to put The Consortium on the map. Now shut up and follow my lead."

Temple pulled the large gym bag out of the back, "Like I said, watch my back. These guys means business."

"I got you, Greg."

With a smirk, Temple shut the hatch and pushed through the crowd of market goers, headed towards the dirty alley just ahead. Jonny followed, his eyes scanning for any threats. At the rear of the alley, Temple made his way down a short span of steps on the side of the building to the right, then knocked two times on the heavy steel door. A moment later a slit in the door opened and two eyes stared out, studying him. Jonny could hear voices and a moment later the slit closed and the door opened.

"Be ready for anything, Hotshot."

Jonny huffed, keeping right on Temple's heels.

The passageway was dark and stank of stale sweat, tobacco, gunpowder, and liquor. Jonny eyed the door guards as he passed them, two locals who didn't appear to be much older than him. But their eyes were hard and the scars on their faces and the AK-47s over their shoulders told Jonny they'd seen their share of shit.

At the end of the hall, Temple turned right then followed the hallway to the last door on the left. The door was open and he went inside, Jonny right behind him.

The inside of the room was a stark contrast to the dirty, stinky hallways that led to it. The room was bright, lit by expensive looking lamps and a plush Persian rug covered most of the floor. Four leather bound chairs were arranged around a low, coffee table the legs of which were carved in the shapes of elephants. A large oak desk was behind the coffee table and behind it sat a man. His skin was dark, like the guards outside, and he was dressed in an old green combat fatigue outfit, similar to those worn by American soldiers in the Vietnam War. He had a scar that ran from his ear down the side of his neck, disappearing into the folds of his shirt. He was smoking and stubbed out the cigarette into a crystal ashtray that looked to Jonny to be more expensive than anything else in the room.

 _'This guy definitely doesn't shop at Ikea.'_ Jonny thought to himself.

The man behind the desk wasn't the only person in the room; two of the leather chairs were occupied. One by another man that appeared to be local and the other by a white man with blonde hair, aviator sunglasses, and wearing a suit that was far too costly to be ruining in the blazing heat and dirty city. By the look of him though, Jonny assumed he could afford plenty of suits.

"Welcome, Mister Temple." The man behind the desk boomed with a thick local accent. Jonny didn't think it was meant to be kind. "Who is the boy?"

"Just one of my guys. Don't worry about him." Greg replied.

"He looks green." The white man laughed; Jonny immediately placed his accent as upper-class British, just like Kreed.

"Watch your mouth, Van Brandt." Temple growled.

"Relax, Temple." The Englishman replied as he lit a cigarette and stood. Jonny and Greg both eyed the man as he made his way towards a hutch against the wall and poured himself a drink. "You Americans are so uptight."

"Looks whose talking, Limey." Greg muttered in return.

"Gentlemen, are we here to trade insults or conduct business?" The man behind the desk asked. Then looking at his man in the chair he said, "Get Mister Temple and his associate some drinks, Edward."

With a nod, the other man stood and did as instructed. Temple didn't move as the man poured two drinks from the same decanter Van Brandt used. When Greg saw the Brit drink, he relaxed slightly and took a sip once Edward handed him the glass.

Jonny followed suit. It was scotch, but a stronger scotch than he'd ever tasted and he bit back the urge to cough. Temple had instructed him how to act in situations like this, any sign of weakness, even something as simple as reacting to a drink, could prove fatal.

"Thanks for the drinks." Temple said as he set the glass down on the table. Jonny did the same. "Now, can we get down to business?"

"What have you brought for me, Mister Temple?" The man asked with a nod to Edward to retrieve the heavy bag.

"The first shipment of weapons you've requested. These are the latest modifications to come off the assembly lines. You can begin to replace your old inventory immediately...if the money is good."

The man nodded, "Please, Mister Temple, take a seat."

"I prefer to stand." Greg replied, "No disrespect, just an old combat injury. You understand?"

The man studied him, then grinned. "Of course, old soldiers and such."

"Yeah."

"What have you got for me, Temple?" Van Brandt asked.

Greg studied the Brit cautiously. He knew all about Van Brandt. A brilliant mind, David Van Brandt previously served in the British SAS before becoming bored with combat and leaving the service to pursue scientific research. He'd excelled as a biochemist, but his lack of discipline and scruples caused him to be shunned by the scientific community. He was eventually outcast when it was discovered he was testing on humans and one of his subjects died an extremely painful and ugly death. He fled his homeland to escape prosecution and had found a home in the criminal underworld. Van Brandt may have been bored with combat, but he had never been bored by killing.

Temple nodded to Jonny and he stepped forward. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the case. He did not make a move to hand it over.

"Is that it?" Van Brandt's eyes went wide with excitement.

"Where's the money? The Consortium may be paying you to carry out this deed, but they are paying me to bring it to you."

"Relax, muscle head." Van Brandt laughed as he reached between the chairs and withdrew a small gym bag filled with cash. "It all belongs to The Consortium anyways."

"My cut is in here."

"Hand it over, kid." Van Brandt sneered at Jonny after Temple took the bag.

Greg gave Jonny a nod and he handed the item over to the Englishman. Van Brandt unzipped the case and withdrew a black vial along with a number of papers.

"Excellent." Van Brandt proclaimed. Turning towards the man at the desk he said, "With this you will be able to take power and along with The Consortium's backing, we can't be stopped."

"You're nuts, David." Temple spat.

"Simple words from a simple mind." Van Brandt replied with a scowl. He turned his gaze back to the vial, stroking it with his thumb in an almost loving gesture, "It's amazing that a buffoon from the former Soviet state of Kazakhstan created such a beautiful and deadly concoction."

Payment for both the guns and the vial in hand, Temple sneered, "We done here?"

"Yes, Mister Temple." The man behind the desk replied. "Please give my thanks to The Consortium."

"Cross us and I'll be back and on less pleasant terms." Temple warned. "The Consortium does not take kindly to turncoats or absconds."

"Oh Mister Temple, a word of advice, my friend?" Van Brandt smiled.

Temple paused mid turn and eyed the Englishman. "I'm not your friend."

"You best watch your back as you Americans say. Word on the street is that Race Bannon is after you."

Temple sneered, "Bannon's not a problem. He's weak. He became a glorified babysitter and got soft. I'm not worried about Bannon."

"Ah, but it's not just him, Mister Temple. You have all of Intelligence One gunning for you." Van Brandt snickered. "My sources tell me the spy organization is close to learning your identity. They know about the ship you sank."

Memories of his "rescue" flashed before Jonny's eyes. It felt like it had been years since he was on that ship.

Temple's lips curled into an evil grin. "Like I said, I'm not worried about Bannon. I'll deal with him when the time comes. As for Intelligence One, let's just say I already have a plan in motion to take care of I-1's Director."

Van Brandt shook his head, "Do not underestimate your former allies, Mister Temple. Bannon is determined to find you. You have the best of Intelligence One on your heels, Mister Temple. Perhaps you should proceed with caution."

"I can handle it, you'll see." Temple's voice was gruff, but Jonny thought he heard a slight tremor of what...fear perhaps? Fear of Race and Intelligence One?

"Perhaps the board was correct to question your judgment. You and Mister Kreed should have thought twice before 'acquiring' young Mister Quest here." Van Brandt grinned devilishly.

"You know who I am?" Jonny spat. Temple glared at him, but Jonny couldn't help it.

"Of course we do, Jonny. I suggest you heed your handler's advice and remember that The Consortium does not tolerate traitors."

"I'm not a traitor." Jonny growled. "My family abandoned me back home. Temple is the only family I have now."

Van Brandt smiled then looked up at Temple. "You've trained him well. Just remember, I-1 is after you and eventually, they will find you."

Temple sneered at the Brit for a moment longer, then stated, "Come on, Jonny, we're done here."

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"Guys, I'm going to head out for a little while to meet my family for dinner." Phil announced. "You guys take a break to eat as well. Bannon's still in transit right now anyways."

"Alright, boss." Dugger, never one to turn down a chance to eat, replied. "Where you headed?"

"That Oyster Bar a few blocks from here." Shaking his head, he smiled, "My kids love that place."

"It's the chocolate goldfish I bet." Karla suggested with a kind smile.

"Probably." Phil said. "I'll be back later so we can review the day's work and develop tomorrow's plan of action. I'll see you guys later."

Heading out, Corbin made his way through the building and outside. The restaurant was only a few blocks away and it would be faster for him to walk than to drive.

Reaching the restaurant he was the first to arrive, so he waited outside. The evening was closing in and while the streets were still fairly populated with pedestrians the crowds were not as heavy as during the day. Within minutes his family arrived. Sarah, Phil's wife, was a senior accountant with the Department of Interior's Parks Division. She sported wavy light brown hair and bluish-green eyes. She carried herself like every other professional working woman in D.C., with confidence and grace. Phil loved her just as much now as the day he'd proposed to her.

His eldest daughter, Marissa, was a junior, a star volleyball player and an honor roll student. She'd started researching colleges and scholarship programs and was interested in studying abroad if possible. She shared her mother's hair, eyes, and womanly build. Phil knew his daughter was growing up fast the first time an interested boy showed up on his doorstep to take Marissa out. It took some getting used to.

Jennifer, his youngest had turned eight back in the springtime. She was small for her age and born deaf, but thanks to a prototype hearing device designed and built by Doctor Quest, Jenny's hearing was partially restored. She signed and had an assistance dog that was not with them at the moment, and she was able to speak adequately due to advanced speech therapy lessons. Her shoulder length hair was darker, closer in color to his than to Sarah's and she had also gotten his eyes and facial structures. Jenny loved animals and wanted to be a veterinarian when she grew up. For her birthday, Phil had taken her to one of the local animal shelters and they adopted a cat named Raven.

He couldn't help himself from smiling; they were the three most important people in his life and he hated that he had been apart from them so much lately; even if the reason was because he was working to save Jonny.

He hugged his girls then gave his wife a kiss. She seemed nervous; Phil knew she was worried about his safety. "Let's go inside."

After being seated and ordering, Phil watched as Jennifer chomped down on the chocolate goldfish and colored while his eldest, Marissa, played with her phone.

"How was school today?" He finally asked.

"Fine." Jennifer answered with a shrug. She handed a crayon to him. He smiled and scribbled a bit on her placemat with her.

"Marissa?"

"Fine I guess. Are you going to make it to the volleyball tryouts?" She finally asked after putting her phone away.

"I will, Marissa." Phil promised.

"You said that before." She mumbled in response.

"Honey, your dad is very busy right now." Her mother said in Phil's defense.

"You're always busy, dad." Marissa shot back.

"I know, but something really important is going on right now that I'm working on."

Jenny looked between her sister and her parents. "Those kids." The girl mumbled, her words low.

"What kids?" Phil asked, not hiding his shock.

"We heard you." Jenny looked away as if she was in trouble.

"What are you talking about, dear?" Sarah prodded.

"We heard you two…talking…the other night." Marissa answered for her sister. "Dad said something about kidnappings and smugglers."

Phil sighed, he thought the kids had been asleep before he and Sarah had discussed what happened in Baltimore; a discussion that ended up turning into a minor argument.

"You two shouldn't be eavesdropping on your father and I." Sarah stated firmly.

"It wasn't really eavesdropping," Marissa protested, "you were being kind of loud."

Jenny looked upset and set down her crayons.

Phil shook his head, "Look, don't worry about it, okay? I'm working to help some people that are in trouble, that's all."

Marissa sighed and reached for her phone.

Phil put a hand on her arm to stop her. "Girls, look. I'm sorry I've been away more than usual lately. I don't want to me. Believe me, I don't. And I promise once this case is over things will be like they used to be."

They nodded reluctantly as the server brought the food to the table, interrupting the conversation. After he left, Phil looked at his wife, then back at his daughters. "I was going to wait till this case was done to bring this up, but I want you to start thinking about where you'd like to go on vacation during winter break. It's been awhile since we've had a family vacation, but I want it to be somewhere you both want to go. How's that sound?"

Both the girls' faces lit up. Jenny immediately proclaimed, "Disneyworld!"

"We can do that if that's what you both decide on, okay?" Phil smiled.

Sarah smiled at her husband. She might have been upset with him for his recent absences, but she never doubted Phil's devotion to their children; he'd go to the ends of the earth to make them happy. "Sounds like a plan. For now let's just enjoy dinner."

Everyone nodded and turned to their meals.

After finishing dinner and paying, Phil and his family stepped outside. The sun had set, but the streets were illuminated by the lamps along the road. Holding Jenny's hand, Phil started to walk them back towards their car a few blocks in the opposite direction of his office.

"I'll be home as soon as I can tonight. I just have a few things left at the office to take care of and then I'll be home." Phil offered as they strolled down the sidewalk.

Crossing at the next intersection, he noticed two men hanging outside a closed up shop ahead. He moved Jenny to his other side, freeing up his firing hand and eyed the men as they pushed away from the wall and started walking towards him and his family.

Reaching them, the two men blocked the path. "Spare a few bucks, Mister?" One of the men asked. He was tall, but lanky and Phil immediately took note that his clothes were not the typical attire of a homeless person nor was his behavior indicative of a drug addict.

Stepping forward, Phil motioned for his family to stand behind him. "Sorry, guy, we don't have anything to spare."

"You got a nice suit on, you surely have some money." The man answered.

"And a nice family." The second snickered.

"Look guys, back off, alright?" Phil ordered.

"Phil, just give them some money. We don't want any trouble." Sarah stated nervously.

"Yeah, give us a few bucks and we'll be on our way." The man said.

"I said back off." Phil repeated. He felt Jenny's hand slip from his. He turned his head slightly to look at her; it was a mistake.

In a flash, the first man attacked. He landed a sucker punch to Phil's jaw, sending the Director to the ground. Lashing out, the man kicked him in the gut as he laughed, "Your old friend in The Consortium sends his regards."

Chaos took over. Phil's head spun as he heard his wife and daughters screaming. Another sound filled the night air; the sound of squealing tires. Scrambling to his feet, he saw each man snatch one of his daughters, pulling them towards the street; they were trying to kidnap them.

He grabbed the man that held Jenny. Wrenching him back, the kidnapper let go of the girl, pushing her hard to the ground. Crawling away, she cried. One hand on the man, Phil hit him hard in the face with his other. The thug reeled backwards, his arms pin wheeling. Shaking his head, the assailant reached behind his back, revealing a suppressed handgun. Seeing the threat, Phil reached for his own weapon. Drawing, he leveled the HK .40 cal at the goon's chest and fired. The shots boomed and found their mark. Falling, the man's pistol dropped from his hand, he hit the sidewalk flat on his back and didn't move.

Turning, Phil went for the second man. His wife was trying to pull Marissa free, preventing the man from getting to the edge of the sidewalk. At the same time a dark van appeared in the street.

"Move." Phil shouted; he couldn't get a shot at the man that held his eldest child.

Loud footsteps approached from the direction of the restaurant. Pivoting, Phil saw a third assailant quickly approaching, raising a suppressed firearm in his hand. Corbin didn't give him a chance to bring the weapon to bear. He aimed and fired. The rounds impacted in the man's chest and he collapsed, his forward momentum causing him to skid across the sidewalk and land over the edge of the curb. He was dead by the time his head bounced off the pavement.

Phil saw the van stop momentarily, but the occupants must have witnessed the kidnapping attempt falling apart. The third man looked scared. Panicking, he released Marissa, shoving her into her mother then took off running down the street. The van followed after him.

Phil's instinct was to pursue, to chase down the man that tried to harm his family, but there was no need. As the van rounded the corner it stopped and the side door slid open. Almost to safety, the third man skidded to a stop when he saw one of his comrades lean out of the vehicle, aim a HK MP5K at him and fire. The kidnapper was pelted by multiple rounds and dropped dead, killed by his own confederate for his failure. The van sped off and out of sight.

Phil kicked the guns away from the dead men, then holstered his own weapon and went to his family. He could hear police sirens quickly approaching.

Phil's youngest was wide eyed with fright and crying. Kneeling down, he wrapped her up in his arms and picked her up, consoling her. "It's okay, Jenny. It's over. The bad men can't hurt you."

He moved to his wife and Marissa and knelt down next to where they were kneeling on the sidewalk. Wrapping all three into his arms, he pulled them close to his chest as they cried.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Phil said, not really knowing what he was saying, but saying it anyways. His family had never been targeted in the past. He felt his rage building at the thought that The Consortium would go after his wife and children.

As the women cried, Phil heard the police arrive.

He tried to stand, but Jenny clung to him and wouldn't let go. "Honey, I have to talk to the police. I'm not going anywhere. I just need to stand up."

Nodding, she finally let go of her father, but the moment he stood, she wrapped her arms around one of his legs and wouldn't let go.

Phil raised his hands. "I'm a Federal Agent. Those men attacked my family."

One of the officers approached him with caution.

"My credentials and badge are in the left interior pocket of my suit. My weapon is on my right hip." Phil stated. "I won't move."

The officer nodded and reached into Phil's jacket, withdrawing his credentials. After looking at them, the officer waved to his partner and holstered his weapon.

"What happened, Sir?" The officer asked then spoke into his radio requesting an ambulance and reporting a shooting involving a Federal Agent.

Retrieving his phone, Phil typed in his passcode and handed it to the officer. "Look in my contacts, call the number for Agent Matthew Velk. Tell him to get here now."

Phil then picked up Jenny and returned his attention to his family. "An ambulance is on the way. Are you all okay?" He asked gently.

"Who…who were those men?" Sarah questioned in between tears.

"Bad guys." Phil answered.

"What did he mean when he said your old friend?"

"I don't know," Phil fumed, "But I'm going to find out."

The officers came over to give Phil his phone and credentials back. He pointed down the street and said, "Your man is already on the way."

Phil nodded and followed the direction the officer indicated. He saw Velk, Dugger, Brooks and Altine running towards them.

Coming up to his side, Velk spoke between breaths. "We were just getting back to the office from dinner ourselves when the officer called. What happened, Sir?"

Phil nodded at Altine who came over to him. He addressed his family. "I want the paramedics to check you all out then Agent Altine and Agent Dugger will escort you back to my office."

"No, you have to come with us." Marissa cried. "Please, daddy."

"I will, sweetheart. I will."

"We're not leaving here without you." Sarah said.

Phil frowned, "They're just going to take you to my office. You know them. It's okay. The moment I'm done with the police, I'll be there, I swear."

She seemed to accept his answer. The ambulance arrived and Altine guided Phil's wife and eldest towards it. Phil handed Jenny off to Dugger, the girl immediately trying to wrap her arms around the Cajun's thick neck. A crowd was beginning to gather and the police worked to move them back so they could secure the scene properly.

"What happened?" Velk asked when the women were out of earshot and an officer joined them.

"They attacked us. Tried to kidnap my daughters. I took out those two," Phil pointed at the two men he'd killed. "But the third guy fled. The van they tried to use waited for him to reach the end of the block then gunned him down themselves."

"Probably because you saw his face. He was compromised." Brooks suggested.

"Probably." Phil replied. He inhaled and exhaled a number of times. He felt the adrenaline wearing off and he suddenly felt lightheaded. He stumbled, but Velk caught his arm.

"Phil, you need to relax."

Putting a hand to his head, he closed his eyes and waited for the dizziness to pass. He'd been in shootouts, but not with his own family being in the middle of it. The thought scared him. "I'll be alright. I'm just wound up."

"What do you want us to do?" Brooks asked.

"Call the Marshals and have them meet us at Headquarters. My family is going in to protective custody immediately. I don't care if they don't want to. This can't happen again." Phil got angry as he spoke, "Fuck! What if I wasn't with them?!"

"Phil, take a breath." Velk offered. "It's over."

"Get a team down here to assist the police. I want documentation on those three men. Everything. Their clothes, any tattoos or birthmarks, what they're carrying. Everything."

"We'll take care of it." Brooks nodded and turned to carry out his orders.

"Get an officer so I can give my statement. I want to get my family off the street." Phil said as he and Velk moved to the ambulance.

"Got it." Velk replied when Phil knelt down in front of his kids and hugged them while the paramedics gently checked them out. They were scared, but except for a few scrapes and bruises, they were unharmed.

"Girls, I'm sorry this happened. I really am. Those men were after me and they tried to hurt you. That's not fair."

He looked up and saw his wife watching wordlessly, along with Altine and Dugger. Looking back at his daughters he said, "I'll find whoever sent these men to hurt us and I'll make them pay. I promise I'll make them pay."

Kissing them each in turn, he then said, "Pete and Karla will take you to my office. I'll there in a few, okay?"

The girls nodded. Phil stood and hugged his wife tightly. Speaking into her ear he said, "This is all my fault. You don't deserve this."

"Phil, stop that." She tried to hold back her tears. "This wasn't your fault."

Keeping her in his arms, he said, "I love you, Sarah and I'm going to find these people and stop them. And I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

As they pulled apart, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

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Velk stayed close to his boss as they made their way to Phil's office. He could tell his superior was still shaken up and planned to keep a close eye on Phil's condition.

Brooks walked on the other side of Phil and the three men entered Phil's office. Inside, they found Karla and Pete with Phil's family. The big Cajun was seated on the couch next to Jenny, with Marissa on the other side of her sister. Pete was playing a YouTube video on his phone for Jenny; an old Woody Woodpecker cartoon with Gaby Gator, the Cajun Alligator. Wrapped up in a shock blanket, Jenny was smiling; she leaned against the big man's arm as Pete joked that Gaby Gator was actually one of his relatives.

Stepping inside, everyone looked at the new arrivals. Sarah was on her feet and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck. Holding her for a moment, he then pulled back, but kept an arm around her waist.

"The Marshals are on their way." Phil said, getting right to the point. "They're going to place you in protective custody until this case is over."

"Phil, no," Sarah argued. Phil guided her towards the couch and Dugger stood so she could sit down. Phil pulled up one of his chairs so he could look them in the eyes. His Agents stood by respectfully, waiting for their orders.

"It has to be this way. This hurts me just as much as it hurts all of you. I'm sending Brooks with you since you know him."

"Can we still talk to you?" Marissa asked.

Phil shook his head. "No, honey, you can't. I can't know where you go. It would be too dangerous. But as soon as this is over we'll be together. And we'll still go on that vacation like I said."

Marissa frowned. "What about school? What about our friends?"

"You can't talk to them. You can't. Not even one text message. You have to leave all your electronics here."

"We can't even go home first?" Sarah questioned. "What about Patch?" Patch was Jennifer's assistance dog.

"I'm going to send Karla and Matt to the house to get clothes and the animals. Once they get back you'll leave with Eric and the Marshals. As soon as this ends they'll bring you back, okay?"

"I want Raven to stay with you, daddy." Jenny stated. Her lip quivered as she spoke. It was apparent she was trying to be brave. "Raven can protect you like Patch does for me."

Phil turned his head and covered his eyes with a hand. He had to stay strong, but his daughter's words had him on the verge of tears. After a moment, he looked back at her, "Okay, sweetheart. I'll keep Raven. I'm going to stay here until this is done. Raven can stay with me upstairs."

Sarah reached out and took her husband's hand. She felt him shaking. "Is there no other way?"

"No," Phil shook his head. "There's not."

"This isn't fair." Marissa cried.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. Please forgive me." Sadness and guilt seeped into Phil's words. "Write out a list of things you want from the house and Karla and Matt will get them for you."

Sighing, Phil closed his eyes briefly. He stood and leaned forward towards his youngest. He placed a hand on her hair then kissed her on the head. He looked at Marissa who was also upset, but she eventually gave in and hugged her father.

Phil went to his desk and sat down. Elbows propped on the edge, he held his head in his hands and looked down, trying to keep it together. Eventually, Sarah came over, pulled a chair up next to him and hugged him tightly. They sat like that for some time.

Dugger and Altine sat down with the girls again. Pete started playing videos on his phone again for the young girl. Marissa slid over to provide some comfort for her little sister.

Karla smiled, "You're good with kids, Pete. How many do you have?"

Dugger smiled, "None. But I have a big family and lots of nieces and nephews." Looking down at Jenny, he flashed a big, goofy grin and added, "to include Gaby Gator."

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Jessie was restless. Tossing and turning beneath the covers, she'd been battling to fall asleep for over an hour. Frustrated, she finally sat up and turned on the lamp on her nightstand. Getting out of bed, she headed for her bathroom.

Staring at her reflection, she frowned at the worn out and exhausted face that stared back. Her face was drawn, she was obviously tired, but sleep was just not forthcoming.

She dug through one of her drawers and found the bottle of anti-anxiety pills she'd been prescribed shortly after she was rescued from the kidnappers. Popping it open, she swallowed one of the pills and went back to bed. If nothing else, the medication would make her drowsy and help her fall asleep. She needed her rest. She turned the light off.

Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy. Pulling her comforter up to her chin, Jessie closed her eyes.

" _Hey, Ace."_

 _Jessie jumped, caught off guard by Jonny's voice. He stood in the doorway of Jessie's bedroom, watching her unpack._

 _They had just returned from their trip to New Orleans where they'd encountered a number of bizarre occurrences. Occurrences that were strange even by the Big Easy's standards._

" _How long have you been standing there, Jonny? Have you already unpacked?" Jessie paused as she looked at him._

 _He shrugged, his lop-sided grin causing Jessie to smile. "I'll do it later."_

" _Jonny Quest, the world's best procrastinator." Jessie laughed and returned to her chore._

 _Stepping inside the room, Jonny closed the door. "Maybe, but that's not all I strive to be the best at, ya know."_

" _You strive to be the best at everything." Jessie replied._

" _Is that so bad?" Jonny asked, stepping closer to her._

 _Ever since Jessie had come to live with her father, she was confused about her feelings for the carefree, but confident blonde. They had immediately hit it off, becoming best friends and engaging in friendly competitions, but as they grew older Jessie had started to look at Jonny Quest in a different light. At times she thought he was more like her father rather than his own, but Jessie quickly learned that Jonny had definitely inherited a good portion of his father's intelligence; he just didn't always show it. Jonny definitely preferred the fast-paced, action hero lifestyle that was more attuned to Race Bannon's behavior. Yet Jonny also possessed a keen curiosity of how the world and everything within it functioned, just like his father._

 _Jonny stepped behind her and gently placed his hands on her hips._

 _He felt her react positively to his touch. "Jonny, what are you doing?"_

" _Jess," Jonny breathed, his voice low. "I've been wanting to be with you for some time."_

 _She turned in his grasp and gazed into his crystal blue eyes; they shone with magnificence and desire. "What are you talking about, Jonny?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper._

" _I want to be with you, Jessie. I.." He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. He felt her nervousness and tension initially, but a moment later she relaxed. She returned his kiss._

" _Jonny, we shouldn't..." She replied, but her actions told a different tale as she leaned back in and kissed him deeply._

" _What's that now?" He ran a finger softly over her cheek._

" _Our dads are home." Jessie smiled, mesmerized by his wonderfully perfect eyes. She felt enchanted, like his eyes were placing her under a spell._

" _So what? The door's closed." Jonny grinned._

" _What in the world are you suggesting, Jonny Quest?" Jessie asked playfully as butterflies fluttered in her stomach._

 _Jonny gave her a devilish grin. Wrapped up in his arms, Jessie moved with him as he guided their connected bodies towards her bed. Setting her down, he leaned over her. His lips brushed against hers for a brief moment before he kissed her passionately._

 _Their lips parted and Jessie exhaled when she felt him move down, planting a trail of kisses along her neck. She shivered as goose bumps ran over her arms. She wanted him so bad, but she said, "Jonny, wait…"_

" _What is it?" He breathed against her neck. His right hand ran up and down the side of her body._

" _We…we shouldn't do this." Jessie replied. She wanted to so bad. "At least, not here, not yet."_

 _Jonny paused. Looking into her eyes he said, "You don't have to be scared, Jess. I won't hurt you."_

" _It's not that, Jonny." She sighed. "It's just…I've never…"_

 _Jonny stood. Jessie sat up on the edge of her bed and Jonny sat down next to her. "Jonny, I'm sorry. I just want our first time to be special."_

 _Jonny nodded. "I'm sorry. I want it to be special too."_

 _Jessie placed a hand on his chin, turning his head so he looked at her. Smiling she said, "Don't be sorry. It's okay. Besides, we aren't even a couple…yet."_

 _A slow smile spread across his lips. "Jessie Bannon, would you like to go out on a date with me tonight?"_

 _Pecking him on the lips, she replied, "I'd love to, Jonny Quest."_

" _I'll pick you up at six." He joked._

" _I'll be waiting." Jessie winked in return._

 _Jonny stood and faced her. Leaning down, he kissed her again. "See you at six then. Who knows, maybe by the time this night is over, you'll have yourself an official boyfriend."_

" _Oh I hope I do." Jessie laughed._

 _Jonny flashed her a quick smile and a wink. "Later, Ace."_

 _Jessie watched him depart, his step a bit livelier than before. Beaming, Jessie felt content. She thought he'd never build up the courage to ask her out!_

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 **To be Continued…**

 **Author's Note: The video Agent Dugger is showing Phil's daughter is a great little clip with Gaby Gator and Woody Woodpecker doing the "Who dat say me?" routine. Gaby Gator is voiced by Daws Butler in the cartoon. Daws Butler was also the voice of Corbin in the original Jonny Quest episode "Riddle of Gold". I had no idea Gaby Gator and Corbin were the same voice actor till I searched for the gator's name since I couldn't remember off the top of my head. :-)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Race departed the plane and headed straight for the military terminal. During his flight, he'd taken the time to study his backstory as a European classic car enthusiast who made his fortune through commercial real estate both in the United States and overseas. If Martucci decided to check into Race's past, in addition to his business portfolio, Martucci would find a handful of accusations in regards to his interests in underage girls and that he'd paid off the families of his accusers with considerable sums of cash. The plan was to use the car angle to get close to Martucci then use the other to find out what Martucci knew about the child trafficking and The Consortium.

The terminal was deserted, so Race made his way towards an Airman working behind the desk. "I need to speak with Colonel Trevino."

"Your name, Sir?"

"I just arrived on the last flight, only guy on the manifest." Race responded.

"Hold on," The Airman replied.

"Race Bannon as I live and breathe." A voice boomed from behind. The Airman vaulted to the position of attention as his commanding officer appeared from nowhere. "Who the hell let you into this country?"

"Nevermind." Race told the kid, then turned to greet the Colonel.

"Good to see you again, Brett." Race smiled as he shook the Air Force Colonel's hand. "And I appreciate your assistance in getting me here."

"You I-1 guys only call when you need a discreet ride nowadays." Colonel Trevino motioned for Race to follow him. "Hell, not much different than when you were with the SEALs."

"You flyboys always were good for getting us where we needed to go." Race joked as he took a seat in the Colonel's office.

Trevino laughed. He offered Race some coffee which Bannon accepted. "I'm sure you'd rather be jumping from one of my aircraft though. Race Bannon, man of action. What brings you here, old friend?"

"What did Corbin tell you?" Race inquired.

Trevino shook his head. "Not much. He just asked for whatever assistance we could provide. I'm happy to accommodate however I can. But, as you can see, the drawdown of forces in this region has affected not only my resources but my budget as well."

Race sipped the coffee. It was the same bitter coffee he remembered from his days in the service. "I'm headed south. Phil said you'd made arrangements for a vehicle."

"Where are you headed?" Trevino asked.

Race shook his head. "I can't tell you that. It's classified and honestly, with what we're dealing with you'd be better off not knowing."

Trevino smirked, "Government spook talk I see. Corbin trained you back up in a hurry it seems."

Race nodded, "I suppose so. Can you help with the vehicle?"

"It's already taken care of." Trevino stood. "Follow me."

Trevino led Race through the building, outside, and into one of the hangers. As soon as his eyes fell on his new ride, he knew he'd be in with Martucci.

"Is that what I think it is?" Race asked as he dropped his duffel bag and approached the sports car.

Trevino's grin reached from ear to ear. "Damn right, Bannon. And its bullshit you get to drive it and I don't."

Parked dead center in the otherwise empty hanger was a German made Gumpert Apollo sports car. The sleek muscle machine hugged the ground and looked downright mean; the car was rare and expensive. It sported jet black paint with carbon fiber accents, tinted windows, gullwing doors, carbon wing and 19 and 20 inch wheels, front and back.

"How much did this beauty eat into your budget?" Race teased as he examined the exterior then popped open the gullwing door on the driver's side.

"Nothing. You spy boys aren't the only ones with friends in high places. It belongs to a friend. Just don't fucking scratch it! I-1's budget won't be able to cover the cost if you damage this baby." Trevino laughed as he handed Race the key.

"Thanks, Brett." Race mused. He tossed his gear in the tiny rear storage space, climbed behind the wheel, then brought the muscle car to life. The engine roared and the exhaust reverberated against the interior of the hangar. Race felt like a kid again. Giving Trevino one last grin, he closed the door, threw the car into gear and screamed out of the hangar, pushing the car out onto the runway and testing its capabilities and speed before he headed out to the autobahn and south towards Italy.

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"What were you thinking?" Kreed spat the moment Temple entered his tent.

"What are you talking about, Lucius?" Temple replied with a shrug.

"You know damn well what I am speaking about, Gregory. The board specifically ordered you to stay away from Intelligence One, yet you sent your flunkies to kidnap Corbin's family. Did you really think he was going to let your goons snatch them and not do something to stop it?"

"They were supposed to put a bullet in his head." Temple grumbled.

"And they failed to do even that!" Kreed threw his hands in the air. "Not only is Corbin still alive, but you failed to take his family. You know his next step is going to be to increase the security at the Quest Compound. You fouled this entire operation up!"

"Watch you tone, Kreed." Temple threatened with a growl.

Laughing, Kreed pointed at the monitor. "Oh you're not out of the woods yet, my friend. The board is waiting to tell you the same thing. You'll be lucky if they let you continue in your current role."

"I don't have time for the board."

"Make the time." Kreed remarked with a flat tone. Picking up the remote, he placed the call before Temple could object.

Two rings in the video conference call connected. Temple sighed and crossed his arms over his chest as Kreed took a seat. The faces of the board members appeared in their normal configurations and they did not appear to be pleased. Only the man called Grimm was unreadable, but that was due to his mask. Temple assumed Grimm was just as perturbed as the rest, even though Temple didn't really see why.

"Explain yourself, Mister Temple." The first man demanded immediately.

"I made a decision and carried out that decision." Temple replied firmly.

"You were specifically ordered to stay away from Bannon, Corbin, and Quest." The woman stated.

"I don't know why you all are so afraid of them." Temple shot back, his face turning beat red; he didn't feel his actions justified this treatment. "But whether you want to admit it or not, Intelligence One is after us. They are a threat. I'm willing to do what is necessary to eliminate that threat."

"They are after us because you took Jonny Quest!" The masked man threw in.

Temple bristled at the interruption, but continued, "The longer those men are allowed to live the closer they get to finding not only the boy, but all of you as well."

That seemed to rattle the board members. Temple grinned inwardly and continued. "I admit, the mistake was sending our operatives after Corbin. I should have done it myself. I won't make the same mistake with Bannon."

"Speaking of," The first man stated, "Bannon is in transit to Europe."

"Where is he headed?" Kreed asked.

"Germany."

"Why Germany?" Temple questioned.

"We don't know." Grimm replied.

"You still haven't broken into the I-1 databanks, Grimm?" Temple rolled his eyes. "Too bad that idiot Surd is dead, he'd have gotten in weeks ago."

Grimm sneered, but didn't respond.

The first man waved a hand, "No matter what has transpired to this point, we cannot allow the actions of Intelligence One to interfere with our plans. Mister Temple, we have another mission for you. There is a shipment arriving in Bremerhaven that requires an escort."

Temple's eye roll showed his displeasure. "Convoy duty? We have people that can do that. The real issue is what we plan to do about Bannon. His presence in Europe changes things."

There was a significant pause by all the board members. Temple grumbled, sometimes he hated having to take his orders from this lot, but with the failure in D.C. they'd be watching him more closely for some time. He'd have to tread carefully.

Finally, the first man spoke. "We need you to transport the shipment from Bremerhaven, Mister Temple. In the mean time we can send an operative to shadow Mister Bannon and report back. Once your current mission is complete, then we can reevaluate that situation."

"Fine." Temple acquiesced. "Who do you plan to send?"

The first man laughed evilly, "I know just the person."

Kreed ended the call. Temple was visibly perturbed, so the Englishman chose his words carefully. "You need to remain focused, Gregory. Bannon is a nuisance, however you must keep your eyes on the bigger picture."

"I'll go to Bremerhaven if that's what the board wants and I'll take the Quest boy with me. But I promise you, Kreed, I will take care of Bannon and sooner rather than later."

Lucius grinned, "Of that I have no doubt. In a way I can understand your desire to dispose of your former friends and I believe the board now realizes that keeping our adversaries alive was perhaps a foolish mistake. Just ensure your attempt is not nearly as disastrous as your one in D.C."

"Oh it won't be." Temple chuckled sadistically. "Bannon and I are going to do some catching up before I slit his throat. I want him to know it was me that destroyed his life before I take it from him."

Kreed grinned evilly as he stood. "Once you depart for the port city, we will pack up the camp and relocate. I have some business that I must conduct in person."

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"Here you go, boss." Velk handed Phil a glass of water and two pills.

After seeing his family off to safety, Corbin briefed the remainder of his team on The Consortium. He'd planned to keep the information as low key as possible, but the attack on his family changed the dynamics. If The Consortium was bold enough to go after him, they wouldn't hesitate to go after his Agents. He owed it to them to keep them informed and he gave each team member the option of being reassigned. None accepted.

After the debriefing, Phil and Agent Velk headed for Maine. Phil knew he needed some rest, but he had to speak to Benton in person. He was definitely glad he'd convinced Benton to allow an I-1 Agent to accompany Hadji back to India and he'd hoped that Benton would listen to reason when it came to this new information.

So the two men were aboard one of I-1's private jets, in flight to Rockport.

"Thanks." Phil nodded as he popped the pills in his mouth and downed them with the water. He removed his jacket and loosened his tie; it was the only way he could get somewhat comfortable. The flight wasn't very long, but long enough for him to try to get some sleep. He hoped the pills would help.

"You know Eric and the Marshals will keep them safe. You know that." Velk stated.

"I know." Phil replied, slowing rubbing his eyes and the bridge of his nose. "It's hard, Matt, not knowing where they are going, but I know they are safe now and I can concentrate completely on this investigation. Hell, even Senator Burke backed off once he heard about it."

"Good. You don't need any distractions from the Hill, that's for damn sure. So besides what you told us back at headquarters, what else do we know about this group, The Consortium?"

Sighing, Phil answered honestly. "Nothing. It just came up when we learned about the people that took Jonny from the cargo vessel. I didn't want to get you guys involved for safety reasons." with a humorless laugh he added, "I guess I was right to be cautious."

Velk nodded sympathetically. Standing he patted Phil on the shoulder. "Try to get some sleep. I'll work on a detail list for Benton. I'll wake you shortly before we land."

"Thanks, Matt." Phil closed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was sound asleep.

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Alone in the lighthouse, Jessie got to work. She'd excused herself after dinner, explaining there was a new program in Questworld she and Jonny had been working on before they departed for Pennsylvania. She told her mother and Doctor Quest that she wanted to ensure it was up and running so there would be something for Jonny to delve into once he was back home.

They appeared to accept her statement.

Seated at the bank of computer terminals, Jessie plugged her father's I-1 laptop into the mainframe. The computer was password protected and while she couldn't enter Questworld by herself, she could at least utilize its technology in an attempt to gain access to the device and I-1's databanks.

Once the system booted, she sat up and began entering codes into the mainframe. Strands of binary code filtered across the screens in front of her as the laptop itself sat idly by. She only hoped that by accessing the databanks she could then gain access to where she really needed to go.

Over an hour passed with no luck and with a yawn Jessie was about to call it a night, when a new command box popped up on her screen.

Suddenly alert, Jessie perked up. Smiling, she studied the information from the screen and as the I-1 laptop came to life.

"Yes!" Jessie proclaimed out loud. Fingers flying over the keyboard, the determined young redhead entered Intelligence One's network, looking for the route that would take her to the information she sought.

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"Pack your shit. We're leaving and not coming back." Temple spoke the moment he'd entered Jonny's tent.

Sitting up from his cot, Jonny saw pure disdain on his mentor's face. Temple was riled up and Jonny had learned it was best not to question the man when he was pissed. So he stood and reached for his gear.

"Where are we going?" He asked with a neutral tone.

"Bremerhaven."

Jonny nodded, rolling up his sleeping bag.

"You're not going to ask what the mission is, Hotshot?" Temple asked.

"Does it matter?" Jonny replied as he stuffed the sleeping bag into a duffel. "I assume you'll inform me of the details while we're in transit, just like last time. All I care about is getting back out there and doing something."

Temple smiled, "You caught the bug. The thrill, the excitement, the potential danger. You loved it, didn't you?"

Jonny shot the man a quick smile then returned to packing as he nodded. "Yeah, I did."

"Better than playing silly computer games, huh?" Temple huffed.

"Much better."

"Well, get ready, kid, because from here on out we'll be constantly on the move. No more training camp. Just like Africa, this will be the real deal."

Jonny paused. The mention of their last mission brought a question to his mind. "Greg, what was in that vial you gave to Van Brandt?"

Temple's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just curious. That guy seemed like a self-absorbed nutjob."

"That's exactly what he is, but he's an extremely intelligent nutjob that excels at his trade." Temple nodded. "Personally, I can't stand the guy, but Van Brandt gets things done. You'll see…trust me…you'll see so enough."

"What's his trade?"

"What's any of our trades, Hotshot?" Temple smirked. "Killing."

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"Gentlemen, come in." Benton greeted the I-1 Agents.

"I apologize for disturbing you at such a late hour, Doctor." Phil offered, stepping across the threshold.

"You said it was urgent when you called," Benton stated while Phil and Matt followed him down the hall. "Of course I woke Estella and Jessie when I received your text after you landed. They're waiting in the living room."

Rising as the three men entered, both redheads immediately noticed the tired and distraught look on the Director's face. Benton informed the women the news wasn't about Jonny, but other than that, Corbin would not speak further about his need to see them until they were face to face.

"Take a seat, please." Benton gestured.

The sofas were arranged in a horseshoe pattern with a large coffee table in the center with the smallest sofa directly across from the large stone fireplace surround and large flat screen television mounted above it. Estella and Jessie sat side by side on one of the sofas. Benton took a seat on the smallest of the three and the two Agents sat across from the women.

"Let me get straight to the point," Phil started once everyone was settled. "Earlier this evening my family was attacked on the streets in D.C."

"What?" Estella gasped.

"What happened?" Benton asked as he sat up straighter. "Are they okay?"

Phil ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "Yes. I was with them when it happened. The three assailants were killed; two by myself and one by their own compatriots in a van they intended to use to abduct my wife and daughters. The men in the van got away."

"Phil, my God, I'm so sorry." Estella breathed. Jessie nodded, she was at a loss for words.

"Is this related to Jonny's disappearance?" Benton asked.

"Yes, we believe so. The men worked for a group called The Consortium. Have you ever heard that name before, Doctor?"

"Never." Benton shook his head with disappointment. "Is that who has Jonny?"

"Again, we believe so. We don't have concrete evidence yet. Race has deployed overseas to follow a lead that we hope will lead us to these people." Phil answered.

"Your family," Estella started.

Phil glanced in her direction. "They've been placed in protective custody. That's the reason I'm here." He turned his attention towards Benton. "Doctor, I want to do the same with you, Estella and Jessie."

"Phil," Estella began, but the Director raised a hand cutting her off.

"These people, The Consortium, they mean business. You'd all be safer someplace no one can find you."

"I don't know, Phil," Benton muttered. "How soon?"

"Immediately." Phil answered. "We can do the same for Hadji as well."

Benton stood. Clasping his hands behind his back he paced in front of the fireplace, his brow furrowed, his mind deep in thought. Everyone watched silently. Phil caught Jessie looking at him, but when he turned to look at her she looked away.

Finally, Benton stopped. He looked at Phil with a new determination. "I'm sorry, Phil. I can't leave."

Phil stood. "Doctor,"

This time it was Benton who raised a hand. "I appreciate your concern and believe me, I sympathize with what happened to you and your family. Believe me I know what it is like. Hell, I'm living the nightmare right now. But I have to stay. What if Jonny comes home? I have to be here if he does. And frankly, the only thing keeping me sane is my work."

"Doctor, I highly advise you to reconsider." Phil pleaded.

Benton shook his head, "I'm sorry, Phil. I'm staying. Now I can only speak for myself," He looked at the two women, "If you two feel differently I wouldn't hold it against you."

Estella glanced at Jessie. The young redhead shook her head, causing Estella to take her daughter's hand in her own. Looking between Benton and Phil, Estella gave her stance. "Benton, if you stay, we stay. We cannot leave you here alone."

Phil sighed heavily as he sat back down. He placed his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands for a few moments. When he heard Benton sit back down he looked up to ask, "Can I at least leave a small contingent of Agents here at the mansion for your safety? I promised Race I'd look after you and since I cannot stay here myself I'd feel much better if I had a team of my own people watching you."

Days ago Benton had refused Phil's offer of assigning another Agent, but now circumstances had changed. Nodding, Benton agreed. "That I can live with, Phil."

"Thank you, Doctor." Relief was evident in Phil's reply.

"I've already created a list of our best Agents." Velk announced. "Teams of five, three for the house and two for roving patrol. That should be sufficient, along with your IRIS security system to cover the grounds."

Corbin added on to what his Agent said, "The first team is on standby at our plane. Two other teams will arrive later. They'll work in shifts to provide twenty-four hour protection."

"If you'll excuse me, I'll step outside and let them know to head this way." Velk spoke respectfully then headed for the front door.

Benton nodded. He was a bit surprised the Agents already had a plan, but then again, this was Intelligence One and Benton believed Phil had assumed Benton would refuse his offer of protective custody. If nothing else, men like Corbin always had a contingency plan.

Benton stood back up, "Can I get you or your Agent anything while you wait?"

Phil shook his head, "We're fine, Doctor, thank you. Once the team arrives we'll be as quiet and quick as possible. I'll bring the team leader to meet with you before I leave."

"I'll be in my office." Benton smiled kindly.

Corbin nodded and stood. "Agent Velk and I will wait outside."

"That's not necessary." Benton replied, but Phil shook his head.

"It's alright, Doctor. I could use the fresh air."

Benton nodded and shook hands with the Agent. "If you insist. Again, I'm very sorry for what happened to you and your family. It must have been quite traumatic for them. I'll keep them in my thoughts."

Phil nodded his thanks.

A short time later, Corbin and Velk leaned against the vehicle; a cool breeze wafted through the mansion's grounds and brushed against Phil's face, keeping him awake. Neither man spoke, lost in their own contemplations for the moment.

Suddenly, Phil snorted a laugh.

"What's the matter?" Velk was concerned.

"I knew Doctor Quest wouldn't leave. I understand he wants to be here for Jonny and Benton's always been extremely strong willed. Sometimes I wonder if Race's stubbornness rubbed off on the good Doctor over the years."

"That's very possible. Bannon's one of the most stubborn people I know." Velk laughed.

"He's definitely earned his reputation. I just hope he can get some quick results. I want this to be over. It feels like it's never going to end."

A noise drew their attention towards the front of the house and Phil saw Jessie emerge.

"Race's daughter is just like her old man, huh?" Velk smirked.

Phil smiled, "You have no idea, Matt. You want to talk about stubborn!"

Velk looked at his watch, it was going on three in the morning. "What's she doing out here at this hour anyways?"

"Looks like we're about to find out." Phil remarked, watching Jessie approach. As she neared, he saw she was carrying two coffee mugs and had something tucked under one arm.

Coming up to them, she handed over the coffee, which each man took gratefully. "Thank, Jess. You didn't have to do this." Phil replied as the mug warmed his hands.

"It's okay. My mom fell asleep on the couch shortly after you came out here and Doctor Quest is in his study."

"The team is on the way, should be here in about five to ten minutes. We won't be very long after that, just long enough to get them situated then Agent Velk and I have to return to D.C."

Jessie nodded. "Where did my dad go?"

Phil smiled a little, "You know I can't tell you that, Jess."

Jessie was quiet for a minute. Pulling the item out from under her arm, she looked at it briefly then handed it to Phil. Even in the low light of the exterior lamps he could see it was the picture from Race's office of the team during that fateful Afghanistan mission. Motioning with it, he looked at Jessie questioningly, "What's this?"

"I want to know more about that picture." She said. "You're in it."

Velk looked at the photo, but didn't say anything.

"What do you want to know? This was a long time ago." Phil replied.

"What happened?"

Jessie saw Phil tense. He opened his mouth to speak, yet no words came out. He then shook his head and said, "This is in the past, Jessie. It's best that it stays there."

"But those men were your friends." Jessie replied. "I'd like to know what happened that changed my dad so much that he and my mom divorced after he got back."

Phil nodded, "They were our friends and some of them died. There's not much more to say." He looked back at the picture, his eyes narrowing as he studied the faces of the men in it. Jessie watched as he ran his fingers over their faces on by one, then stopped on one man in particular.

"Who is that?" She prodded quietly. Even Velk seemed interested to know what Phil was thinking.

"Someone I'd forgotten about. Race thought..."

"What?" She asked. "What did my dad think?"

"He thought this man betrayed us."

"Did he?" Velk asked.

Jessie saw Phil's hand shaking slightly. "I don't know. He survived the mission, but by the time Race brought up his concerns, this guy was already dead; killed on another mission."

"Who was he?" Jessie breathed; this little bit of information Phil was relating, even as vague as it was, was more than her father had ever spoken about it. If that man did betray Race and the team, it was no wonder her father had been so affected as a result that he shut out Estella when he returned.

Before Phil could answer, they were interrupted by approaching headlights. A moment later, the lights dimmed and they saw it was the I-1 team arriving.

Phil handed the photo back to Jessie, his attention back on the present. "You should go back inside, Jess. It's cold out here and I need to make sure my Agents are briefed thoroughly before Velk and I depart."

Jessie frowned; she'd been so close. "Agent Corbin?" She called to him as he stepped away.

Turning he looked and waited.

"That man? What was his name?"

Phil shook his head. Jessie couldn't be sure, but there was something in his eyes that bothered her. It could have just been his exhaustion and distress from the incident with his family, but she didn't believe that. Maybe part of it was that, but he was obviously bothered by the memories brought on by the picture.

"His name doesn't matter anymore, Jess. He's dead. Let it go." Phil replied sternly then headed over to the arriving SUV as it pulled up next to his own.

Jessie sighed, but knew she'd get nothing else from her godfather, at least not right now. She suddenly felt tired and decided to head back inside, leaving the Agents to conduct their business.

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The following morning, Race arrived at the Ambassador Hotel de Rome. He enjoyed seeing people's heads turn during his drive through the city and the valet's face lit up when Race opened the door and tossed the young Italian man the keys.

His drive down from Germany had been uneventful and except for a few curious onlookers at rest stops along the way, he hadn't seen anyone paying particular interest to him. He'd found the opportunity after crossing into Italy to stop at a tiny bed and breakfast off the beaten path just long enough catch a little sleep and shower. The old woman that ran the establishment doted on the handsome American and his car and had prepared him a home cooked Italian meal and ironed his shirt and suit; the same shirt and suit he now wore as he made his way inside the luxury five-star hotel.

Everything he was doing was the complete opposite of how he wanted to act, but in order to grab Martucci's attention Race had to appear confident and flamboyant; things he couldn't do by hiding in the shadows, playing spy.

Heads turned as he strode towards the desk and Race smiled at a number of women who stopped in their tracks to stare down the new arrival, some even seeming to have forgotten their male companions on their arms. Race felt the scowls from those men, their glares boring holes into his back.

Reaching the desk, Race leaned on the counter and removed his sunglasses. Giving the young woman behind the counter his best smile, "My name is William Blackburn. Is my room ready?" He didn't bother to speak Italian.

Blushing, the girl was beside herself that such a good looking and confident man was giving her attention. Working to regain her composure, she replied in perfect English with a sweet Italian accent, "Unfortunately, Sir, not yet. You are rather early."

"Well, I've had a long trip, I'd like my room to be available as soon as possible." He didn't even have to offer her a monetary incentive, she immediately started entering information into the computer.

"Yes, Signor Blackburn." She stammered, her eyes downcast towards her monitor.

"I'll be in the bar." Race replied and gave the woman a wink. She practically fainted.

Striding confidently towards the bar, Race found a seat and order a scotch, planning his next move in his mind.

Finishing the drink rather quickly, he ordered a second. The bartender set the glass down a moment later. Taking a sip, Race felt a hand on his shoulder then a seductive and playful touch to his ear.

"Well hello there…Mister Blackburn."

Race knew the voice. He turned and couldn't hide his astonishment. "Jade?"

Jezebel Jade smiled then leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. "I forgot just how sexy you look in a suit." She placed a hand on the upper part of his thigh, then with her other she revealed a key card. Sliding it suggestively into the breast pocket of his suit, she brushed her finger on his lips, kissed him again ever so lightly and said, "Room 524. In case you get tired of waiting down here."

Jade gave his leg a squeeze, then turned, giving Race a show of all of her assets. He watched as she sauntered from the room, her hips swaying as she passed a group of pretentious looking ladies, not even acknowledging their presence. Once she disappeared, Race found he was holding his breath. Finally exhaling, he shook his head.

"Damn." He mumbled.

' _What the hell is Jade doing here?'_ He asked himself. Downing his drink, he set some money on the counter then departed. He knew what Jade wanted from him and while he was more than willing to accommodate he first needed to find out her true motives for being in Rome.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Race handed the bellhop a Twenty Euro bill. The young man smiled and nodded. "Grazie, Signor."

Shutting the door after the kid stepped out of his room, Race picked up his bags and moved into his suite. While he preferred a more covert style of operating while undercover, he could definitely get used to this work as well. Between the sharp clothes, the insanely sweet German muscle car, and now this gigantic bedroom suite, Race found himself grinning.

"Yeah, could definitely get used to this lifestyle." He said out loud. Tossing his bags down, he surveyed the room with an approving nod. The suite was more like a small apartment then a hotel room. A large king size bed was covered with a comforter and pillows that Race guessed was more expensive than the majority of his clothes. A small desk sat in the corner near a balcony, the doors currently closed. The bathroom was about half the size of the bedroom and sported a clawed foot tub and walk-in shower with glass doors. Even the sink and toilet were elegant. Off to the right of the bedroom, Race threw open the French doors. Beyond the threshold was a large seating area with couch, love seat, bar, and 80 inch flat screen television. Tucked into the corner was a second desk, this one larger and made of oak.

Race walked to the bar and poured himself a scotch. He pulled his secure phone from his pocket and placed a call back to Corbin. Taking a seat on the couch, Race waited. Three rings in, Phil answered the call.

"Race, what's your status?" Phil asked immediately, no pleasantries.

"I'm in the hotel. So far, everything has gone according to the plan." Race replied. He noted that Phil sounded tired, even with the time difference. "Everything okay back there?"

There was a pause, he could hear Phil moving about. Race assumed he'd woken his friend up and that Phil was pulling himself out of bed.

"Phil?"

"Race, listen to me. You need to take extra precautions. At this point, we have no idea who we can trust."

"What's going on? What happened? Phil, talk to me." Race pushed.

"The Consortium came after me and my family." Phil answered.

"Jesus, are they okay?"

"They're fine. I killed two of the assailants, the third was gunned down by one of his own and the rest escaped. Afterwards I went to Maine. I wanted to move Benton, Estella, and Jessie into protective custody too, but they refused. I've posted twenty-four hour security details at the mansion."

Race ran a hand through his hair, then downed his drink. Standing, he went and made himself another. "Good. I appreciate you going out there yourself, Phil. I'm sure it wasn't easy after what The Consortium did."

"It's my job, Race. But even if it wasn't, you know I'd look after them for you." Phil replied. "I just got back to Headquarters a few hours ago. I'm staying in one of the safe haven suites upstairs. I was trying to get some sleep."

"Understood." Race nodded as he spoke. "My plan is to head out to scout the bank and make contact with Martucci if possible."

"Did Trevino square you away with a vehicle?"

"Did he ever!" Race laughed. "I'll send you some pictures."

Race heard Phil laugh and little. He was happy he could cheer the other man up, even just a tad.

"Race, just be careful. I know you know what you're doing, but be cautious. Use your judgment and follow your gut."

"I will." Race replied. "Get some sleep, brother."

"I'm up now." Phil stated.

"Phil, I'm half way around the world, talking to you on the phone and I can tell you need rest. Who is on duty in the GOC right now?"

"Pete." Phil answered.

"Let Pete do his job. Go back to sleep. I'll call you after I get back to the hotel this evening to give you an update. Until then, if I need anything I'll harass Dugger."

He heard Phil sigh. "Alright."

Race smiled. "Good. I'll talk to you later." Ending the call, he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

It took a moment, but it suddenly dawned on Race that he'd neglected to mention Jade's unexpected presence to Corbin. He'd gotten so wrapped up in what Phil said the information slipped his mind completely.

Race debated calling back, but decided against it. For now, he'd follow Phil's advice and rely on his judgment. Jade was a lot of things and while Race had to work on the assumption that the woman had ulterior motives, he still believed she was on his side. He also knew that while Phil relied on Jade when necessary, he did so begrudgingly; the two didn't always see eye to eye.

Reaching into the breast pocket of his suit, Race studied the key card she'd given him, flipping it around between his fingers. With a smirk, he finished his drink. Setting the glass down, Race retrieved his firearm. Tucking it into a concealed small of the back holster, Race headed for the door.

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Caught off guard by the difference in temperature, Jonny shuddered against the breeze blowing in off the water at the port. For almost two months, he'd been in desert environments and arriving in mainland Europe was a significant difference for the young Quest.

Jonny went to the rear of the vehicle and dug a jacket out of his duffel bag. While he was back there, he decided it was time for another drink and grabbed a water bottle. He wished Temple would just give him his own supply of the powder, but Greg was determined to keep tight control of the substance.

"Hey, Greg. I need a packet." Jonny called to his mentor.

Standing in front of the vehicle, Temple was speaking to a man Jonny had yet to meet. Coming up next to the two, he nudged Greg in the arm. Temple looked as if he hadn't heard Jonny a moment ago, but when he saw the bottle in the boy's hand he grinned and handed over one of the packets.

Jonny went about the motions as the other man watched him closely. He was older than Jonny, perhaps in his early to mid-twenties. His features were sharp and his hair was even blonder than Jonny's. He wore an expensive looking suit jacket and pants, a deep red silk shirt unbuttoned at the neck, and highly shined black shoes. He sported a gold chain and a number of flashy gold rings. The more Jonny studied the newcomer, the more he realized the man resembled Kreed in many ways.

The man must have seen Jonny's recognition. He smiled, his teeth as perfect as Lucius' and said, "You've figured out who I am."

If Jonny had any doubt, the man's accent erased it. "You're related to Kreed."

Temple grunted, "Quest's a sharp one, Ian."

The man nodded then extended his hand to Jonny. "Ian McManus. Lucius Kreed is my father."

"Different last names?" Jonny asked when he shook the man's hand.

Ian shrugged. "My father's idea actually."

"Ian here is a bit of a showboat." Temple said. To Jonny it seemed Temple was a bit more comfortable with Kreed's son then with Kreed himself. "He enjoys the spotlight…and the ladies that come along with it."

Ian explained. "My company is involved in a lot of charity work as a front, so I remain in the public's eye quite often. It's better if I'm not tied to my father's surname. Perhaps some will figure it out, but most of his adversaries believe him to be dead. It's really more of a precaution than anything else. McManus is my mother's name."

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's get down to business." Temple stated.

Ian agreed and waved for them to follow. Moving through the working port, Jonny remained focused on his surroundings. Every now and again, a worker would glance in their direction, but overall no one bothered the group. Jonny assumed most of the workers were either employed by McManus or had the wherewithal to not ask questions.

Ian stopped in front of two short bed transport trucks and one longer semi; a forty foot container was in the process of being secured to the semi's bed. Ian handed the documents to Temple. "You'll be escorting these three vehicles. Each has a different destination along the route, the details of which are explained in your packet. The semi's final destination is Kiev in the Ukraine. Once you deliver the semi, you'll receive your next set of orders."

"What's the cargo?" Jonny asked, but was silenced when Temple gave him a hard stare.

"Inquisitive delivery men do not live long, Mister Quest." Ian chuckled.

"What about checkpoints?" Temple brought up.

"My men have already taken care of the checkpoints along your route."

"And what if one of those officers gets a tad greedier? Or worse, a change of heart." Temple smirked.

Ian rolled his eyes and sighed. "Then do what you must, Mister Temple. But do it as quickly and quietly as possible. And please, make sure you dispose of any evidence."

Temple huffed a laugh. "You know I will, little Brit. The drivers?"

"You Americans and your nicknames." Ian responded. "My drivers are all paid members of The Consortium. You are not the only one that recruits and trains his people, Mister Temple."

"Yeah, but my guys are the ones that get to have all the fun." Temple remarked.

Jonny grinned.

"You have a tight timetable, Mister Temple." Ian stated, ignoring Temple's remark. "I suggest you prepare. My trucks will be ready to depart within the next twenty minutes."

Ian headed towards his office. Temple turned and strode back to the vehicle, Jonny right at his side.

"I'm sorry I asked about the cargo." Jonny stated once they were in the vehicle and headed to the gate to wait on the trucks.

Temple studied the first document then placed the folder between the driver's seat and the center console. He entered the first waypoint into his GPS device. Giving Jonny a sideways glance he said, "What did I tell you before, Hotshot? Don't apologize. It makes you look weak."

Jonny nodded.

Temple continued. "One thing you need to learn about this organization is that while we take care of our own, we don't tolerate people sticking their noses into business that doesn't concern them. Right now your job is to provide security for these trucks. That's it. You don't need to know what's in them in order to protect them. But protect them you will and if bullets start to fly then you need to be prepared to fire back."

"You really think there could be trouble?"

Temple looked in the rear view mirror, watching the trucks come in line behind him. Throwing the vehicle into Drive, Temple waved at the guard to open the gate. Keeping his eyes forward, he said, "I trust McManus to a degree. He's loyal, but he's cocky. He says he paid off the checkpoint police officers, but that doesn't mean we won't get harassed. So could there be trouble? I'm betting on it, Hotshot." Heading towards the road, Temple gave Jonny a serious look. "You follow my lead if that happens and do not hesitate to react. You get what I'm telling you?"

"I understand." Jonny said. He pulled his pistol from under his jacket, double checked the magazine and chambered a round. Setting the weapon on Safe he re-holstered it, then settled in for the drive.

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Having excused herself right after breakfast, Jessie went straight to the lighthouse. She'd retrieved the I-1 laptop from her hiding spot and was plugged back in to the device, easily gaining access now that she had broken through the encryption.

Navigating the backbone of the I-1 systems, she eventually found her way to the data she wanted. Jessie double checked her masking software and was confident her intrusion was still undetected. She imagined that if she had been discovered, the Agents that roamed the grounds would have already been alerted and sent to arrest her.

Jessie clicked on the email icon. The program opened, new items filling her screen. "He gets a lot of emails." She shook her head with a smile. She knew how to browse the files so they remained unread. Scanning the emails, Jessie couldn't find anything related to the search for Jonny. However, she did discover an older note from Hadji's I-1 bodyguard stating the Sultan had reached his palace in Bangalore safely and no significant actions were reported at the time. The response to the email was simply an acknowledgement of the message and instructions to remain vigilant. Jessie felt a sense of relief in knowing that her other best friend was safe and currently being protected by the dedicated Agents of Intelligence One.

Keeping the window open on a different screen, Jessie moved to begin searching the files. The screen was filled with folders, organized alphabetically. Moving through the different folders, Jessie found one that could contain what she was searching for. Opening the folder earmarked as Retrieval Operations, Jessie's eyes read through subfolders. She frowned; they appeared to be missions unrelated to the search for Jonny.

Taking a breath, Jessie paused. A glance at the other screen showed ten new emails had appeared while she was searching the other files. Again, nothing pertaining to Jonny, however one email appeared to be from someone in Capitol Hill inquiring about a status report from Doctor Quest on a Top Secret project and why the Doctor had not yet filed the report. Jessie's brow furrowed; she hadn't known that Benton was still actively working on projects for the U.S. Government and Intelligence One. It bothered her that whoever sent the email was more concerned about a late report than the fact that Benton's son was missing. She made a note to check the traffic later for the response.

Disappointed that she had yet to find anything pertaining to Jonny, either in the emails or the folders, her thoughts wandered back to the night prior and Corbin's reaction to the photo and her questions. Opening a search box, she typed in the word "Afghanistan". Multiple results came back. She narrowed the dates down to the timeframe she believed the operation might have taken place and she was rewarded with less results. One archived file caught her eye.

Opening the PDF file, Jessie smiled as she proclaimed. "Got it."

The document was an after action report. Her father's name was at the top, indicating he was the one who wrote the report. She was a bit surprised to see that it was written by hand, but assumed he had penned it in the field shortly after the mission. She said a silent thank you to her dad for having such neat handwriting.

Jessie settled in to read. After the first few paragraphs, her smile was gone, replaced by a look of perplexed astonishment that quickly turned to pain and sorrow.

"My god." Jessie whispered, but she couldn't tear her eyes away.

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" _You've got to be fucking kidding me." Race growled. Grabbing the radio hand mike he called to the lead vehicle occupied by the team of Navy SEALs._

" _What's going on up there, over?" He asked._

 _The radio squawked, "We're stuck, over."_

" _Fuck." Race muttered as he set the mike down. Looking to his driver, he ordered. "Stay here." Turning in his seat, he tapped Dugger's leg; the Agent was manning the M2 .50 caliber machine gun in the vehicle's hatch. "Keep your eyes open up there."_

 _He heard Dugger grumble his response._

 _Stepping out, Race made his way up to the first vehicle where the SEALs team leader was out and assessing the situation. Corbin and Grimm came up from the trail vehicle and joined Race at his side._

 _Race shook his head; the front end of the lead vehicle had sank in a quagmire of snow and mud; the tires almost completely submerged._

" _Fucking mud." Race sighed._

" _We can try to pull them out." Corbin suggested._

 _Race looked back at his colleagues then glanced at their surroundings. "This pass is only going to get worse the further up we go."_

" _We can move up on foot." Grimm stated. "It'll delay our arrival at the rendezvous point, but at least we'd make it there."_

" _Will our contact wait for us? That's the question." Race replied._

" _If we leave now we can make it there before nightfall." Corbin added._

 _Race stroked his chin, digesting the information. Finally he nodded, "That's what we're going to have to do. Any further delays and not only do we risk losing our contact, we risk losing Vostok's trail. Get the guys ready."_

 _Corbin turned and signaled the rest of the Agents to dismount and join them in front of Race's vehicle._

" _What about the vehicles?" The SEAL team leader asked._

" _Get this one unstuck, then return to the base camp with the vehicles. After we make contact, we'll radio back to camp with follow-on orders."_

" _Yes, Sir." The man replied and left to give his team the instructions._

 _With his team assembled, Race spoke. "Guys, we're moving out on foot. This terrain is treacherous so it'll be slow going the higher we get up the mountain. Bring enough food, water, ammo, and clothing. It's already cold as fucking balls out here, and it's only going to get worse the higher up we go. Grimm, carry the manpack radio. Reassemble in twenty minutes so we can check each other out before we step off."_

 _The men nodded and returned to their vehicles to gather their equipment._

 _Spread out on either side of the road, hugging the wood line, Race led his men up the mountain. Each man carried his weapon, basic load of ammunition, and ruck sacks filled with food, water, clothing, medical equipment, and more ammunition. Grimm carried the radio. They were dressed in fatigues, gloves, boots, vests, and combat helmets._

 _They'd been travelling for almost three hours without a break, pushing themselves beyond their limits to make up for lost time. Up ahead a curve in the road gave Race concern. The blind spot, coupled with the rising peaks and outcroppings of rocks on either side was a perfect spot for an ambush. Holding up a fist, he signaled the team to stop and take a knee._

 _Corbin was in the lead across the road and Race looked in his direction. Meeting the other man's eyes, Race signaled his intentions. Corbin nodded, then motioned to one of his men. Race gave the signal to the rest of the team to go prone and wait._

 _Corbin's man moved across the road and knelt down next to Race and Grimm. Speaking low, Race gave his orders, "You two move up and scout this pass. Grimm, leave the radio."_

 _Both men nodded. Race watched them disappear into the woods._

 _Minutes later, the two men returned._

 _Lying down next to Bannon, Grimm whispered his report. "The road curves to the right then to the left about fifty yards further up. The trees thin out to almost nothing too. No sign of any movement or even recent activity passing that way."_

 _Race assimilated the information and patted his friend on the shoulder. Grimm slung the radio back onto his shoulders and returned to his position. Signaling to Phil across the road, he told the man to move to the rear of the file._

 _Signaling again, Race got the team up and moving to the bend; they would move in two man buddy rushes. With a nod to his partner across the road, Race sprinted down the side of the road, then took up a position behind a group of rocks. The air was thin, their assault packs heavy, but that didn't matter._

 _Race kept his ears and eyes attuned as he watched the teams bound. These types of blind spots were extremely dangerous, but to go around would delay them even longer. It was a risk he had to take._

 _The team had an odd number of personnel, so Phil was the last one to move up on his own. The team flowed forward, someone always on the move. As they reached the sharp left turn, Race headed for another position._

 _Automatic gunfire pierced the late afternoon silence. Scrambling, Race dove then crawled forward as bullets rained down on them from an elevated position._

 _He heard a muffled cry and looking back, he watched one of his men get hit, the high powered round passing through the side of his face and exiting the other side._

" _Fuck." Race growled. They'd walked straight into an ambush._

 _Looking towards the sky, Race saw men emerge from concealed positions along the ridgeline, moving to take aim on the ambushed Agents. They'd been hidden so well Grimm hadn't seen them in his initial search._

 _Race quickly assessed their situation and realized they were massively outnumbered. Bullets continued to impact all around as his men hollered at each other to return fire. Race signaled then propped himself against the rocks and took aim at the enemy._

 _Firing back, Race heard his team start to do the same. They were pinned down and couldn't organize for a counter assault. Race ducked as a barrage of bullets whizzed by. He dropped his pack and saw his men doing the same._

 _One man moved to retrieve their fallen comrade. "Stay down." Race yelled as the enemy took aim on the Agent._

 _The man couldn't hear Race over the gunfire. Sneering, Race returned to firing at their adversaries, his rounds hitting a number of the gunmen and sending others back into hiding._

 _Amazingly, the Agent reached their fallen comrade uninjured. Grabbing the man's vest, the Agent started to drag the body towards the side of the road._

 _A loud whoosh filled the air._

" _RPG!" Someone yelled._

 _Race crouched down and saw the rocket impact and explode. A scream echoed over the gunfire as the dead man's rescuer was hit, his leg absorbing shrapnel caused by the explosion._

" _Fuck fuck fuck!" Race spat. He had to get his men organized or they'd be slaughtered._

 _Looking for Phil, he saw Corbin attempting to move. Phil was the team's marksman and with his tactical M14 was trying to get to a position where he could engage the enemy gunmen utilizing his sharpshooting skills. Race motioned for him to double back and around._

 _A moment later, Grimm made his way to Race's side while Race fired at the enemy, hitting at least two of the gunmen as they moved between positions. "We're fucking trapped." Grimm shouted._

" _No shit, man!" Race said. "Provide covering fire so Phil can get into position."_

 _Grimm nodded. Argus Grimm was the oldest member of the team. Looking at him, with his wavy auburn hair and glasses, one might assume he was an accountant or a lawyer and not an intelligence operative. But he was much stronger than he looked and he carried a M4 with M203 grenade launcher attachment. Opening the breach, Grimm popped a 20mm round into the launcher, closed it, aimed and fired. The distinct pop of the round leaving the tube filled Race's ears, then a moment later it exploded next to a group of enemy gunmen. Not wasting time, Grimm reloaded the launcher and fired again._

 _The wounded Agent had managed to crawl to the side of the road and as one of the other men came up next to him to assist, a volley of rounds tore him to shreds._

" _I have to get to Pete." Race yelled as he watched a second member of his team die._

 _Grimm's response was to keep firing._

 _Race's heart was pounding in his chest. His ears were ringing as the battle raged on._

 _He saw a glimpse of Corbin who had made his way to a higher position. Moving behind a grouping of rocks and shrubs, Phil was taking aim on a cluster of enemy combatants. Firing he took out one of the men, then quickly acquired his next target, shooting that man dead._

 _Race knew Phil would only be able to engage a few men at a time before having to move again, but he was grateful for Corbin's sniping skills._

 _Protected by Grimm's covering fire. Race dashed across the pass towards Dugger. Bullets pelted all around and he picked up his pace then slide down next to Dugger a moment later._

 _Pete was working on their comrade, placing a tourniquet on the man's leg. Amazingly, the wounded Agent was still coherent. Race knew it was because of his adrenaline and only hoped they could turn the tide of the battle in order to get him out in time to save his life._

" _Get that pig firing, Pete." Race said as he crouched down next to the wounded Agent. Race was referring to Dugger's M60 machine gun._

 _Nodding, the big Cajun grabbed his weapon. With the bipod open, he balanced the weapon on the rocks he was using for cover. The wounded Agent crawled up next to Pete and assisted him in loading the weapon's tray and feeding the linked ammo. Slamming the tray cover down, Dugger charged the weapon, saddled up behind it, and started firing, sending rounds towards their attackers in a spray of fully automatic gunfire._

 _With Dugger engaging the enemy, Race ran towards his other two men. They were huddled together further back down the road, firing at what targets they could. Coming up next to them, he said, "Keep firing, but don't let these assholes get a bead on your position. Move when you have to."_

 _The men nodded and Race took off._

 _He made his way back towards Grimm, but had to veer off to the side to avoid another volley of bullets. Scowling, he crawled through the snow and mud in search of cover. Engaging a group of men making their way across the rocks, he knew they were trying to flank his team. The last thing they needed was to be surrounded by a largely superior force. Firing at the men, he hit one as the others made it behind some brush. From their movements and tactics, Race concluded these men were professionals, not some ragtag band of rebels. The information was damning; a largely superior force from an elevated position would eventually gun down each and every man on his team. Race had to get to the radio before that happened._

 _Shouts from behind pulled Race's attention back towards his men. The two Agents were frantically attempting to eliminate a group of gunmen that had successfully maneuvered on their position._

" _Fucking hell." Race growled, "How did they get around?"_

 _Rotating, Race added his fire to that of the two men, cutting down a number of the enemy as they advanced. Race watched as one of the Agents pointed, indicating a spot he was intending to reach. Race continued to lay down suppressive fire in an attempt to allow his men to disengage and move to a safer location._

 _The first man was on his feet and moving. Enemy fire followed the man who lowered his head and ran as hard as he could. Race's bolt locked to the rear. Cursing, he quickly changed out his magazine, needing to provide the man with a chance. AK-74s blasted. Only steps away from his spot, the man was riddled with bullets. Collapsing forward, he hit the ground hard, weakly crawling forward. Race's eyes widened when he saw a grenade land next to the man. Unable to do anything for his friend, Race watched with horror as the grenade detonated. When the dust settled, what was left of his Agent didn't move._

 _Sneering, Race's fury boiled over. Standing, he fired as fast as he could squeeze the trigger. He was running towards the second man as six combatants converged. Race watched as the gunmen overran the position, firing into his Agent at point blank range._

 _Race screamed as he fired. One of the gunmen looked in his direction and threw a grenade. He smiled when the explosive left his hand. Race didn't stop. Distance shortening with each step, Race watched as the grenade landed directly in front of him. Without thinking about it, he picked the live device up and threw it back as hard as he could. It landed in the group of men and exploded. Race heard their cries, but didn't care. He started firing again. When he reached the scene, all six gunmen were dead, but so was his man, gunned down just like his comrade right before Race's eyes._

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 _Corbin ducked as a new group of gunmen took aim on him. Reloading his rifle, he got down on his stomach. Cradling the weapon in the crook of his arms, he crawled through the mud, snow, and rocks as quickly as possible. The gunmen popped off a number of shots, forcing Phil to crawl faster towards the cover up ahead._

 _Reaching his next point, he positioned himself between two decent size boulders and some trees. Bringing the rifle back up to fire, he peered down the sights and steadied his breathing. Blinking, he let his eyes focus and when he was ready, he waited. One of the gunmen peered over the top of his own hiding spot. It was all Phil needed; he fired. The round slammed into the man's exposed head and he dropped back and out of sight._

 _Exhaling, Corbin waited for the next target to emerge._

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 _Bannon's eyes burned from the dirt and gunpowder. He ignored it all while making his way back to Grimm. He was already on his fourth magazine. He'd lost track of time. He was running low on ammo and Race knew that if he was, so was the remainder of his team. Glancing across the path, he saw Pete desperately changing out the barrel on his M60 as the wounded Agent at his side engaged the enemy with his M4. Pete tossed the red hot barrel aside the moment it was removed, then quickly placed the fresh one onto the weapon. Whipping the bulky mittens off of his hands, he was reloading the tray and back to firing in less than two minutes._

 _Race made it back to his previous spot and turned his attention back to the cliffs. His heart sank. A wave of enemy combatants was advancing. They'd already killed four of his men and from the looks of the swarm, Race knew they were almost out of time. He couldn't even count how many men were coming after them in the chaos. The enemy force seemed endless. The I-1 Agents' chances were hopeless._

 _Dugger's M60 mowed down a slew of the attackers, giving Race the time he needed. He had to move now._

 _Race rolled, vaulted to his feet and ran for Grimm. To Race it felt like the other Agent was miles away. Weapon raised, Race fired as he moved; keeping the enemy pinned down. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man pop up and toss a grenade at him. Race stopped in his tracks and made a hard right turn then dove. The grenade landed and exploded, showering Race with mud and debris. He'd been lucky; he was far enough away from the impact to not take any shrapnel._

 _Back on his stomach, crawling forward inch by inch, Race finally reached Grimm's position. The grenadier had shrugged off the radio pack already. Crouching down behind the rocks, Race leaned his back against the cover and keyed the mike, "This is Alpha Team, we're under attack, over."_

 _The radio crackled. "Fuck!" Race shouted. He adjusted the antenna and changed the frequency, then made the call again. "This is Alpha Team, we need close air support, over."_

 _A broken voice replied, "Alpha Team…base…position, over?"_

 _Race upped the attenuation. "Send close air support on the ridge at this position. We're fucking pinned down here, over."_

" _Close air support requested, standby."_

 _Grimm glanced at him, shook his head and then started firing._

 _Race looked back at the ridge. He had no idea how many enemy were out there. His eyes were drawn towards Corbin's position and saw him engaged in a pop up battle with three enemy. Race turned, got down on his stomach and dug his elbows into the cold, thick mud. Taking aim, he fired in the direction of the men attacking Phil while he waited for a response on the radio._

 _The entire battle was nothing but a jumbled tumult of confusion and chaos. The remaining I-1 Agents fired desperately at whatever targets they could get a bead on, but the enemy's numbers were just too great._

 _Race needed support from the base camp. They wouldn't survive without it. The only question was, would that support arrive in time to save the remainder of his team. At this point, Race wasn't entirely sure it would._

 _Watching the scene on the ridge play out, Race observed Corbin and an enemy pop up at the same time. Corbin fired as the man threw a grenade. The man took Phil's round in the chest, but he managed to lob the grenade at the marksman's position._

 _Phil disappeared from Race's view just before the grenade landed close to his position and exploded._

" _Goddamnit." Race grunted when Phil didn't get back up._

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 _Corbin's head was spinning, his ears ringing. He tasted blood and felt warm wetness on the side of his head. Blinking through the haze, he surveyed the area. His rifle was a number of feet away and he was flat on his back. He heard shouts drawing near._

 _He pulled his pistol, aiming into the haze. A figure emerged carrying an AK-74. Phil fired. The man dropped. He rolled as the second man fired, the rounds hitting the spot where he had just been. He knelt and took aim, but the man closed the distance; his downward momentum carrying him straight into the Agent._

 _The gunman collided with Phil hard, knocking the pistol from the Agent's hand. The two men tumbled down the side of the hill. Phil smacked into the side of a rock pile and his torso flared; the impact likely fracturing a couple of his ribs._

 _Corbin ignored the pain. He pulled his kabar combat knife and used the rocks to push himself to his feet. The gunman had come to a stop a few paces down. As the man staggered to his feet, Phil lunged forward, knocking the man onto his back._

 _Corbin didn't hesitate. Straddling his adversary, he plunged his blade into the man's sternum. The man's eyes went wide. He attempted to push Phil off, but Corbin was relentless and proceeded to stab the man repeatedly in the chest and stomach. The melee didn't last more than a minute and when Phil moved off, the man was dead. With a sneer, Corbin turned his head and spat a wad of blood. Wiping his blade, he sheathed it then moved back up the mountain to retrieve his dropped firearms._

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 _Back on the pass, the radio crackled. "Negative on close air support at this time, over."_

" _What the fuck!" Race shouted, then into the mike he said. "They're massacring my men out here!"_

" _Artillery ready. Switch to Fires Net, over." The radio replied._

" _I'm running low on ammo." Grimm stated. "I'm already out of rounds for the 203."_

 _Switching to the appropriate frequency, Race spoke into the radio, "Request for fire, over." He gave Grimm a look that he hoped was somewhat uplifting._

" _Send coordinates, over."_

 _Race set the mike down and pulled out his digital GPS locator. Getting their coordinates, he picked the mike back up and reported, "Call for fire, location WG45786300891. Danger close, I say again, danger close, over."_

" _Roger, standby."_

 _To Bannon it felt like hours passed before the radio finally crackled, "Shot over."_

 _Race responded, "Shot out."_

 _Race waved his arms to his men, indicating for them to prepare for an artillery barrage._

 _Five second from impact the fire direction officer spoke over the radio again, "Splash over."_

" _Splash out." Race responded._

 _Seconds later the bottom ridge began to explode. Race felt his bones jarring from the impact of the 155 rounds; the earth shook._

" _Walk them up five meters." Race told the distant end._

" _Roger."_

 _They repeated the commands and as the next barrage impacted, Race saw they were dropping in the heart of the enemy's position._

" _Fire for effect, over." Race reported._

" _Fire for effect, out."_

 _Artillery rained down on the enemy, silencing them as they scrambled for cover._

 _Finally, Race called back on the radio, "Cease Fire."_

 _Once the artillery ended, Race held his breath._

 _The few random enemy that survived the bombardment tried to retreat, firing random shots at the Agents as they ran up the hillside. Dugger engaged them with the M60, gunning them down without mercy._

 _Race's ears were ringing, but the gunfire eventually ceased. He lowered his head and sighed._

 _Back on the radio, Race called, "Base, this is Alpha Team, requesting immediate medevac, over."_

" _Roger, aircraft are already in flight, over."_

 _Exhaling, Race replied, "Roger, out." Letting the mike slip from his grasp, he got to his feet and told Grimm, "Keep watching."_

 _Moving back to Dugger, he found the man unharmed; surrounded by empty ammo cans, spent shell casings and links. The other Agent was still alive, but was physically worn down._

" _Birds are on the way." Race told the man, who dropped his forehead into the mud at the news. Dugger bumped helmets with the wounded man and whispered words of comfort into his ear._

 _Adrenaline still pumping through his veins, Race's eyes took in the battlefield. Smoke and burning gunpowder overwhelmed the thin air. He shuddered, but not from the cold. His eyes fell on the bodies of the dead Agents. Race went to the first two that died. He knelt down next to their lifeless forms. Leaning forward, Race touched one of them as he lowered his head. Anger overtook him at that moment; he let out a vicious, yell, cursing the plethora of enemy men that were responsible for the deaths of his friends._

 _Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Bannon saw Phil climb down the ridge. Blood and grime caked the man's face and neck and he winced as he walked. Race had assumed Phil was dead, either by the enemy grenade or the artillery, but he'd somehow managed to survive._

 _Race stood and went to him. Placing a hand on Corbin's shoulder, Race reported the deaths of the four men. Phil nodded but said nothing._

 _Minutes later Blackhawk helicopters approached. Grimm marked the best landing spot and guided the first aircraft down. Despite his own injuries, Phil assisted Dugger in carrying the wounded man towards the aircraft, then they returned to help Race and Grimm with the dead men._

 _Deceased and wounded loaded, Race, Phil, Dugger, and Grimm climbed aboard the second helicopter. The seats were out, so the men sat on the floor and the crew chief strapped each one in as the bird lifted off. With a hand on the frame for support, Race leaned out the door, his eyes drawn down to the scene of the battle._

 _Corbin was across from Race, Dugger next to Phil. Race's and Phil's eyes met briefly as Phil removed his helmet and looked down onto the scene as well._

 _The bird banked. Race saw the carnage. Craters caused by the artillery and bodies strewn everywhere; he started to count. He annotated approximately fifty bodies before he lost track and the battlefield receded from his view. Leaning against the back wall of the aircraft, Race closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he looked at his comrades. Their faces were drawn, their eyes distant, haunted. Bannon knew from their looks they had fought with the same beliefs he did; that they weren't going to survive. However, Race knew their struggles weren't over. He and his friends would now fight another a battle, one where they would struggle to come to terms with the fact that they had survived while four of their friends had not._

 _Grimm stared straight ahead, his eyes locked on the back of the aviators' helmets. A scowl affixed to his face._

 _Dugger's legs were propped up, his arms across his knees, his head down._

 _Corbin's head was leaned back, resting on back of some netting. He stared out the door, watching the scenery; a hand on the back of Dugger's neck._

 _A group of nine entered that pass. Only five made it out alive, one of which was still fighting for his life in the other helicopter. The battle had lasted just short of two hours, but their lives were changed forever; transformed from excited and invincible kids, some barely old enough to drink, into grown men._

 _Race closed his eyes again. He thought about the men lost and their families back home. Race would have to tell them their loved ones fought and died bravely. Eventually, he thought about his own family; his wife Estella and their little girl, Jessie. He had no idea how he would tell them about what he'd just experienced. He didn't know if he even wanted to._

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Jessie found she'd been holding her breath. Exhaling slowly, she stood and started to pace. After she'd finished reading her father's report, she had moved on to the one written by Corbin. While they were similar, there were details that differed based on their individual experiences during the battle. There were more reports, one from each surviving member of the team, but she'd didn't read anymore. She couldn't. The reports she'd just finished disturbed her immensely; she'd never known her father had underwent such a horrific experience. To be engaged in a life and death struggle with no hope of survival was something Jessie couldn't even fathom, but her father had experienced it and survived.

The information didn't help in her search for Jonny, but it did give her pause to consider how such experiences affected those that lived through them. It didn't surprise her that her dad had shut her mom out after he returned; how do you tell someone about an experience like that? How can you possibly expect the other person to understand your pain and trauma of seeing your friends killed right in front of your eyes, questioning why you survived, yet they did not? Not knowing if the next one to be gunned down would be you?

Now she understood why her father had insisted she talk to someone about her own horrific experience; he didn't want her to end up like him; hardened and cold by his ordeal. Experiences define a person, molds them into what they become. Her father was a good man. Even back on that mountain in Afghanistan he was a good man, ready to die for and with his friends. He'd survived, but that didn't mean that some part of his humanity hadn't been stripped away; violently torn from his soul and left on the battlefield that fateful day. The idea depressed Jessie.

Thinking back on her own childhood, she could recall times when her parents argued. As a child, she had assumed she was the cause of their disagreements, even though both her mom and dad always assured her that was not the case. Jessie didn't always believe them, but now, she knew they had been telling the truth. Her parents loved her, they just couldn't find a way to continue to love each other.

Her thoughts turned to Jonny again. The pain of not knowing what he was going through made her physically ill and emotionally drained. She still had no idea why The Consortium had taken Jonny; no one did at this point. But she knew he wouldn't be the same when he returned. He'd already suffered immensely at the hands of the traffickers. Jessie had too. And her own experience had been so traumatic that she imagined Jonny, no matter where he was and what he was undergoing, was only piling on to his pain. She thought about Hadji's words to her back in the hospital; that Jonny was still living the nightmare. Even to this day, he still was. She only hoped that her father would find him before Jonny was completely lost to them.

Jessie would learn from her parents' mistakes. She wouldn't give up on Jonny, no matter what his condition was when he was back in her arms again. She'd suffered with him, console him when he needed, and she would never push him away, no matter how hard he might try to push her. Jessie loved Jonny and he deserved to be shown that love.

She couldn't read anymore, not right now. Powering down the systems, she returned the I-1 laptop to its hiding spot.

Turning off the lights, Jessie left the lighthouse. Her intent was to head back to the house, but she found herself headed towards the beach instead. She didn't want to see her mother at the moment, not after what she'd just learned. She didn't blame her mother for what happened with her parent's relationship, but perhaps Estella could have been a tad more understanding of Race's situation. Either way, Jessie needed solitude.

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Stepping out of the shower, Phil felt better. He'd actually managed to get some sleep, even after Race's phone call. Everyone had been pushing themselves to the limits, and Phil was no exception, so he assumed his body had just given in to the stress and shut down.

After a quick shave, he went back into the main room and started getting dressed. The safe haven suites were like hotel rooms. Not many luxuries and small, but they served a purpose of giving Agents or witnesses a safe place in the event there was a problem.

Phil pulled on a pair of pants and sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. His daughter's cat, Raven, jumped up next to him and rubbed its head on his arm.

"I'll feed you in a minute." He told the animal. He actually didn't mind the feline being there, its presence reminded him of his wife and kids and motivated him to do whatever was necessary to find Jonny so he could be with them again.

Shoes tied, he stood and pulled an undershirt on over his head. The cat meowed at him, causing Phil to give in. "Fine."

He fed the cat. Grabbing a dress shirt, he put it on and was about to button it up when he saw a light on his tablet flashing from where it sat on the nightstand. Grabbing it, he entered his passcode, then opened to the alert.

"What the hell?" He muttered.

Setting the device down, he went to his secure laptop on the desk. He'd brought it up with him in order to do some work, but had fallen asleep almost immediately upon settling into the room.

Punching in the appropriate codes, he watched as the screen displayed the same alert as his tablet. Shaking his head, he entered a number of commands into the computer.

Looking at Raven, he smiled, "I'm not as dumb as some might think I am...even though I am talking to a cat."

The feline looked at him and jumped on the bed in response to his voice.

Corbin finished getting dressed then placed his holstered firearm on his belt. Shrugging into his suit jacket, he gave the cat a quick scratch behind the ears, then grabbed his phone, tablet, and laptop and headed to his office.

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"I thought you'd never show up and I'd have to find another date for the evening." Jade purred with a playful wink.

"I had a few things to take of first." Race replied and followed her into the suite. Her room wasn't nearly as luxurious as his, but it was still one of the higher end accommodations at the elegant hotel.

He was somewhat surprised, and a little disappointed, that Jade wasn't waiting for him in a more seductive outfit and he had to remind himself that he needed to focus on finding out the truth about her presence. But just the mere sight of Jade's perfect form always got Race's blood racing and head spinning.

But just because the mysterious woman didn't greet Race at the door in lingerie, she was still stunning. She wore a form fitting black dress, low cut in the front, showing off her creamy skin and perfect cleavage and laced behind her neck. The dress ended mid-thigh, Race's eyes travelling down to take in her firm, pantyhose covered legs. Black pumps cradled her feet, but Jade was the type of woman that had no problem with stylish, yet uncomfortable footwear. Her short hairstyle framed her face, her dark green eyes glimmering in the light.

"Drink?" She asked when she stopped in front of the mini-bar.

"No thanks. I've had enough already." Race waved her off.

Shrugging, Jade made her own cocktail.

"What are you doing here, Jade?" Race finally asked once his flame took a seat on the couch, crossing her legs and gently cradling the glass in her palm.

Taking a sip, she smiled. "I could ask you the same thing, Race."

"I'm here on business."

"As am I." Jade answered cryptically. "Somehow I think our business is actually mutual."

"What makes you say that?" Race inquired.

Jade took a sip, her face turning serious. "I know what's going on, Race. I know about Jonny's kidnapping and I'm here to help."

"How do you know about that?"

"Are you really questioning my ability to obtain information? After all these years, I'd think you'd have figured out that I have my own network, Race."

Race sighed. "Okay, I'll accept that. But what's in it for you?"

"Nothing. I just want to help."

"Come on, Jade, we both know better than that." Race smirked.

"You're back with Intelligence One for a couple months and they've already got you thinking and acting like an Agent again."

"It keeps me alive."

"If you say so." Jade shrugged. "Race, you're in danger."

Race thought back to what Corbin told him about the attack. "How so?" He asked.

"You're going after Jonny as expected, but you have no idea what you're up against."

"What am I up against?" He prodded.

"The Consortium," Jade stated. Taking another sip, she gauged his reaction.

"A group of criminals and thugs." Race sneered.

Jade shook her head. "Perhaps, but they have Jonny. And they may be criminals and thugs, but they are well organized and deadly. But you already know that, don't you? Corbin learned the hard way and his family almost paid the price for his underestimation of The Consortium."

"What do you know about that?" The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He'd only just found out about The Consortium's attack, yet Jade was already in the know. Something didn't add up.

"I know they were lucky. If Phil hadn't been with them, who knows what would have happened. But you're out here on your own and you could use some help."

"The Consortium seems to excel at kidnapping and harming defenseless women and children." Race sneered. "But when faced with a real threat...well we've seen what happens. Corbin killed the men that tried to take his family. I plan to do the same to the rest of The Consortium, especially the men that took Jonny. I have work to do, so unless you're here to tell me where The Consortium is hiding, Jade, then I'm going to have to work this one alone."

Jade frowned as Race turned to go. She'd seen him determined in the past, but never like this. Never so dead set and cold. "Race..."

He glared over his shoulder at her.

"I don't know where The Consortium is hiding." Jade started. Race huffed and turned his head away. Setting her glass down, she stepped to him quickly, grabbing his arm before he could leave. "Race, I came here to help, I swear. You can't do this alone. I know that you'll push yourself to the edge, drive yourself so hard that you'll break."

"I owe it to Jonny and Benton."

"Let me help."

Race glared at her. Her eyes pleaded to him and Race softened. Her look told him that even if she was hiding something, she was sincere in wanting to help Jonny; she'd always had a soft spot for him. Sighing, he finally agreed. "Fine. But Jade, what matters to me is finding Jonny and getting him home safely. In the process I'm going to destroy The Consortium."

Jade nodded.

"My plan was to head to the bank. You up for some sightseeing?"

"You know I'm always game." Jade winked, glad Race's abrupt and unexpected behavior had dissipated and he'd allow her to assist. It would be much easier keeping her eye on him if she was right by his side.

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Temple slugged Jonny in the arm, "Wake up, Hotshot."

"What?" Jonny grumbled. Blinking, he saw it was pitch black outside. "I didn't realize I fell asleep."

"Probably the heater." Temple remarked.

Looking at his mentor, Jonny saw the man had his window open to allow the cool night air to blow across his face. "Where are we?"

"We're about to cross into Poland. The first checkpoint is coming up in a few kilometers. Be ready. Roll your window down."

Jonny sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at Temple and saw the big man had his pistol sitting in his lap. Jonny mirrored Temple and rolled down his window.

The night was still. Temple slowed the vehicle then stopped completely in front of the checkpoint. Two men wearing police uniforms stood in front of the red and white gate. One held his hand up as Temple put the vehicle in park and flashed his lights three times. Jonny watched the officers exchanged looks and one began to approach.

Temple grabbed his pistol in his right hand then casually draped his arm on the door.

The officer came up to Temple's side. "What is your cargo?" He asked in English, his accent thick.

"Medical supplies." Temple responded.

"Give me your paperwork."

Temple nodded to Jonny discreetly. He saw Temple let go of the gun to grab the documents and hand them over to the officer. The moment the man took the papers, Temple had the gun in his hand again.

"What is your destination?" The officer asked.

Temple bristled. McManus said he'd paid the officers off; he shouldn't be asking so many questions. "Warsaw." It was actually true; Warsaw was their first stop.

The officer motioned to his compatriot. Looking back at Temple, he said. "Show me your passport."

"What's the problem, officer?" Temple asked, his grip tightening on the firearm.

Jonny watched the second officer approach. He saw the man's hand go to his holstered sidearm.

"Step out of the vehicle. We need to search." The officer said. He held on to the papers.

"You're making a mistake." Temple muttered in a low voice.

"Step out of the vehicle now." The officer ordered.

Temple sighed. He looked at Jonny and Jonny knew what to do.

"Fine." Temple told the officer.

In a flash, Greg raised his pistol, pointed it out the window at the officer and fired. The shots sounded like canons in the confines of the vehicle. Bullets hit the startled officer and he fell.

The second officer drew his pistol. Jonny leaned out the window and fired before the man could take aim. Jonny's rounds tore into the man, causing him to crumple in a heap on the ground.

Temple opened the door. Stepping out, he stood over the man he'd shot. The officer was withering on the ground, moaning in pain. Jonny moved out as well. Checking on his target, he confirmed the second officer was dead. He moved over to Temple.

Greg hovered over the man, staring down at him as he struggled for air. A look of bewilderment and fright in his eyes. Reaching down, Temple snatched the paperwork from the officer and handed it to Jonny.

It was splattered with blood.

"Was McManus' bribe not enough for you, you greedy bastard?" Temple grilled.

"Who?" The officer muttered.

Temple sneered. The guards must have been changed out without McManus' knowledge. These men were not the men the Brit paid off.

"I guess that doesn't matter now does it?" Temple replied.

"Please." The wounded man begged. "I have family."

"I don't give a damn about your family." Temple spat. He raised his pistol, pointed it at the man's head and fired one round. It was enough.

Holstering his weapon, Temple looked back at the truck drivers. "Get out here and hide these bodies." He barked. The two men in the first vehicle gulped visibly, but did as they were ordered.

Five minutes later, Jonny had raised the gate and was back in the vehicle with Temple.

In motion once again, Temple looked at the boy. "I told you there'd be trouble, Hotshot. That fool McManus didn't plan for the guards being rotated."

Jonny nodded, but didn't reply.

"Your first kill." Temple stated. Jonny was surprised to hear a bit of sympathy in his mentor's speech.

"Yeah." Jonny answered.

"How do you feel?"

Jonny thought about the question. Finally, he looked at Greg and responded, "Nothing. I feel nothing."

Temple huffed. Jonny thought he saw a little curl of a smile on the side of Temple's face.

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 **To Be Continued…**

 **Author's Notes: For those that might be interested in the language Race used in the battle while calling for artillery.**

 **SHOT OVER – Fire Direction Officer (FDO) informing the observer the rounds have been fired**

 **SHOT OUT – Observer confirms**

 **SPLASH OVER – FDO informing the observer the rounds ill impact within 10 seconds**

 **SPLASH OUT – Observer confirms**

 **FIRE FOR EFFECT – The continuous fire of rounds on the determined location**

 **CLOSE AIR SUPPORT – Race was requesting assistance to be provided by aviation assets such as Air Force A-10s or Army AH-64 Apache helicopters**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Arm in arm, Race and Jade strolled through the streets of Rome, headed towards the bank where Martucci was employed. They stopped along the way to gaze at the architectural marvels of the ancient city, making themselves appear to be nothing but lovebird tourists.

"You know, I've never actually been to Rome before." Race stated as they passed a group of young students.

"It's a beautiful city. Maybe when this is all over, we can enjoy it together again." Jade hummed.

Race smiled, looking into her seductive green orbs. "You know, I'd actually like that. Sometimes it's difficult for me to enjoy a place where I've been on assignment. But, with you, Jade, I think I can manage."

Jade squeezed his arm a bit tighter. "I'm sure we can have some fun."

"Agreed."

Out of the blue, Jade asked, "How's Jessie?"

She heard Race inhale, caught off guard by the question. "She's...coping. I saw her briefly before I left to come here. She's staying with her mother at Benton's place."

"How bad was it, Race? What happened to her and Jonny I mean?"

"Bad." Race went to the dark place in his heart. The images of the cages his daughter and Jonny were forced to stay in were seared into his brain. "And that wasn't even The Consortium. That was those fucking scumbag traffickers."

"Race, I'm sorry. Jessie's a great kid. She didn't deserve that."

"None of them did." Race growled. "We found others too. But we didn't find Jonny in time and that is what's tearing me apart. I've never let that kid down before."

"You still haven't. You're still looking for him." Jade tried to sound reassuring.

"If you say so." Race muttered.

Jade let the subject drop, knowing Race would only continue to grow angrier if she continued to probe him for information. She cared about Jonny, Jessie too, and it hurt Jade to know they suffered so needlessly.

They traveled the rest of the way to the bank in silence. Stepping through the large glass doors, Jade was impressed with the establishment. Set up in one of the older buildings near Vatican City, the bank still retained its original marble floors and renaissance period style.

Patrons went about their business, ignoring the new arrivals completely. Race assessed the situation immediately. Two armed guards flanked either side of the entryway. Another was stationed near the tellers and a fourth stood just the left of a hallway door that led further back into the bank, probably to the offices. His eyes scanned the ceilings and counted no less than five security cameras.

"May I help you?" A young Italian man moved over to greet the couple. He smelled of cologne and wore his hair slicked back on his head. His nose was narrow and straight and his rich, brown eyes studied the couple with an air of both curiosity and concern. Race figured the man was one of the managers and may have noticed Race's subtle observations.

"Yes, I'd like to speak with a Signor Martucci." Race told the man.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"I do not, but tell him my name is William Blackburn. I'm here to discuss some potential real estate opportunities I've been working on here in Italy and would like to bring my business to Signor Martucci. I've been told he's the best."

The man nodded slightly. "Please, have a seat, Signor Blackburn. Can I get you or your friend something to drink while you wait?"

"No thank you." Race answered with a wave of his hand.

The manager seemed put off by Race's gesture, but disappeared down the guarded hallway regardless.

"Now we wait." Race mumbled. They sat down on one of the leather bound sofas in the waiting area.

"I might have to find out more about this place." Jade joked under her breath.

"You can rob them some other time, dear." Race replied with a pat on her forearm.

Jade feinted disappointment.

Twenty minutes later the manager returned. Race and Jade stood to meet him.

"I am sorry, Signor Martucci is occupied for the moment and cannot meet with you."

Race tried to remain calm. Exhaling he replied, "Perhaps I should take my business elsewhere."

The manager shook his head. "That is not necessary. If you'd like to meet with one of our other employees that can be arranged."

Waving his hand dismissively, Race played the offended businessman role. "No. I came here specifically to do business with Signor Martucci. If he cannot be bothered to meet with me, even briefly, then I'll take my money elsewhere. Thank you."

Race made a show of turning to leave, Jade playing right along with him.

"Signor, please wait." The manager croaked. It was obvious he didn't want to lose out on potential business. Race looked back at the man. "If you like, I can speak with Signor Martucci and make arrangements for him to meet with you later this evening. Where are you staying?"

Race beamed inside; he had him. "At the Ambassador."

The man nodded, "Very good. Will eight o'clock work for you?"

"Yes," Race replied. "I'll be in the bar."

"I will give Signor Martucci the information."

"I look forward to meeting him in person. Eight o'clock tonight."

Nodding, the manager confirmed, "Eight o'clock."

With Jade on his arm, Race made a show of exiting the bank. He could feel the manager's eyes boring into his back the entire time.

Once outside, Jade exhaled. "Well, not exactly as planned."

"My guess," Race led her down the street. "Martucci wants time to check me out. Make sure I'm legit."

"Well, let's hope your backstory is solid."

"It is." Race answered confidently. "Martucci will learn everything he wants to know about the American businessman William Blackburn and once he does, he won't be able to resist meeting with me."

"What do you plan to do once you've made contact?" Jade asked casually.

"I'll find out what he knows about the trafficking ring and The Consortium. And I don't care how I get that information. I'll break him if I have to." Race replied, his face set with determination.

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Jonny let out an audible sigh of relief when they pulled into the warehouse parking lot on the outskirts of Kiev. They'd been driving for days and after the first incident at the checkpoint, Jonny had been on edge the rest of the trip. Temple encouraged the young man, reminding him that he did what he had to do, but for Jonny it had started to weigh on his mind; not the killing part, that had come easily enough, but the fact that at the time he'd felt no emotion in taking another man's life. Even now, he still wasn't affected by what he'd done.

He was on edge because he was ready to do it again.

Parking the car, Temple climbed out and Jonny followed. Walking up to the door at the side of the loading bays, a man emerged and met them half way. They moved to the side to allow the semi to back up to one of the bays.

"Everything here?" The man asked.

"Yep." Temple replied and handed over the paperwork.

The man appeared to be around the same age as Temple, but his hair was completely gone. His deep set eyes appeared almost black and his teeth were stained from years of heavy smoking. Even now the man held a cigarette in his hand while reading the paperwork. Temple nodded for one and the man handed over his cigarettes. Jonny hadn't witnessed Temple smoke before.

"Come inside." The man stated and turned towards the door.

Temple and Jonny followed. The warehouse was like any other warehouse; rows and rows of scaffolding were piled high with crates and boxes. Men moved about, fulfilling their duties. Jonny heard the bay door open and watched as a forklift pulled up and waited.

Their contact led them to an office and motioned for them to take a seat. They did and the man closed the door. Jonny's nose curled up at the stench of stale tobacco.

"What have you got for us?" Temple asked once the Ukrainian took a seat behind his desk.

"Orders from the board." The man replied. "They want you to lie low for now. It seems there was some trouble at a checkpoint along your route." The man eyed Temple and Jonny suspiciously.

Temple shrugged. "So what? It's not like we haven't had incidents like that in the past."

"In the past you didn't have Intelligence One hunting you."

Temple groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'm getting really tired of hearing about those assholes everywhere I go."

The man smirked. He stubbed out his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray then lit another. "Well, whether you like it or not, that is what is happening, my friend."

Temple shook his head, "Fine. Hell, it's been a long fucking trip. I could use some rest."

The man handed over a sticky note and an envelope filled with cash. "Here is the address of the safe house in Kiev. I will call when I have your next set of orders."

"How long?" Temple asked.

The man shrugged.

A scowl crossed Temple's face. Standing, he jerked his head towards the door. "Let's go, Hotshot."

"Be safe, Gentlemen." The man chuckled.

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Seated at his desk, Phil drummed his fingers on the edge of the wood, watching his monitor. It was already after noon and he watched the intruder navigate his system with a sly smirk spread across his face.

A knock on the door drew his attention from the monitor. "Come in." He announced.

Karla Altine opened the door and stepped inside. The Agent sat down across from her superior.

"What have you found?" Phil asked.

Altine handed him a folder. "We're still working to identify one of the gunmen that attacked you, however we did identify the other two."

Phil flipped open the folder and perused the documents as Karla continued. "The first one's name is Frederick Holland. He disappeared from a school field trip in Colorado twelve years ago. The second's name is David Miller disappeared without a trace when he was camping with some friends in Georgia six years ago. I'm sure once we ID the third man, we'll find a similar MO."

"All three men had the same tattoo on their upper right arm." Karla continued, causing Phil to look at the morgue photos of the men. "It's a strange symbol, but my guess is it ties them to The Consortium."

"Like an initiation right of some kind." Phil stated.

"Agreed." Altine nodded.

Velk rushed into the office at that moment, waving a piece of paper. "We got a hit on the license plates and the van."

"Where is it?" Phil stood as Velk came in and handed him the paper.

"It's parked at an apartment complex in Richmond. Richmond police are watching it. They saw two men exit the vehicle and enter one of the apartments. I dispatched one of our infiltration teams already, but they're on standby till we arrive."

"Richmond's a bit of a drive." Altine stated.

"The Consortium probably set them up there on purpose." Phil concluded. "Far enough to not arouse suspicion, but close enough to be able to act when called upon."

"I informed the police and our team that they are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous." Velk reported. "They all know what these dirtbags did. If they leave the apartment I gave orders to follow, but not engage."

Phil nodded his approval. "I want them taken alive. This will be our opportunity to get our hands on actual members of The Consortium."

"Dug's going to be pissed he's missing out on another raid." Velk joked and fell in step behind his superior and Altine.

Phil laughed a little. "That's probably for the best. Like I said, I want them alive. Now let's go get these assholes."

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They arrived at The Consortium safe house. Looking around, Jonny wasn't impressed. His assumptions that The Consortium maintained a style of luxury were completely dashed when he looked around at the drab décor. Temple must have seen his disappointment.

"It's not all flashy, Hotshot." The man replied, moving into the room. They had stopped at a local market near the tenements for food and supplies and Temple's arms were wrapped around the bags. Jonny carried both his duffel and Temple's bag as well.

Besides the two bedrooms, the apartment had a front room, furnished with a couch, coffee table, two recliners and an old tube television; a small kitchen with all the necessary appliances; and a little eating area with a round table and four chairs around it. Carpet ran throughout, except in the kitchen. Jonny shivered, the place was cold. He went to find the thermostat.

Temple started putting the groceries away and after cranking up the heat, Jonny joined him. "How long do we have to wait?"

"I have no idea." Temple replied. He popped open two beers and handed one to Jonny before continuing to unpack.

"This is going to be fucking boring." Jonny groaned, sipping the beer.

Temple snorted a laugh. "We'll make the best of it, kid. I know a few places around here that you might enjoy."

"We can do that?"

Temple took a long drink from his beer, then looked at Jonny. "What would be the point of busting our asses all the time if we couldn't relax and enjoy the spoils of our hard work?"

Jonny shrugged. "Good point."

"Why don't you go take a shower and relax? Tonight I'll take you out to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Jonny inquired.

"Your success, my boy." Temple beamed. "After what you did at the checkpoint, you're a full member of The Consortium."

Jonny smiled and finished his beer. Temple's praise felt good.

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"Jessie?"

Jessie blinked. Her mother was staring at her with that worried look that drove Jessie insane.

They were at coffee shop in town. Estella had insisted that Jessie accompany her on her trip into Rockport for groceries. Benton was buried in his work, so Estella had taken it upon herself to ensure the house remained stocked with necessary items. She planned to cook dinner this evening too and wanted to make something special for both Benton and Jessie.

"Hmmm?" Jessie mumbled.

"I asked you how your programming in the lighthouse is progressing." Estella stated. "You've been cooped up in there by yourself for days now."

"Programming?" Jessie asked, but caught herself immediately. "Oh, the Questworld game. Yes, it's coming along. Just lots of bugs to work out of the system."

Estella's eyes narrowed, studying her daughter. "I don't like you being in there all day by yourself."

Jessie rolled her eyes in response. "Nothing's going to happen to me in there, mom. We have I-1 Agents crawling all over the place."

"That's not what I meant. You know that." Estella answered. "You know what your dad said about talking to someone."

Jessie huffed. "I know."

Estella set her coffee cup down. "What's going on, Jess? What are you really doing? Ever since Agent Corbin came up here, you've been acting strange."

"Strange? Gee, mom, maybe it's because dad is gone and nobody seems to know where the hell Jonny is." Jessie was fed up with her mother at the moment.

"They're trying, dear." Estella replied calmly, not rising to Jessie's bait for an argument.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Jessie looked away.

"I know you want to be out there, honey, but you have to let your dad do his job."

"Why can't we go to D.C. and help the team back here?" Jessie asked. "It's ridiculous sitting around just waiting."

"Benton needs us here. I-1 has the best people working on the investigation." Estella replied.

"Just because you don't want to go and help, doesn't mean I don't."

"Jessie, what makes you think I don't want to help find Jonny?" Hurt laced Estella's question.

Jessie rolled her eyes again. "Get real, mom. Your feelings have nothing to do with Jonny. You just hate the idea of being around I-1. You hate that dad is back with them. You left I-1, remember? Of course you have no interest in going back to help."

"Jessie, where is this coming from? I left I-1 to take care of you." Estella responded. "So your dad could concentrate on his job."

"All the good that did. You ended up leaving him anyways." Jessie felt her face getting hot.

"Jessica, stop this nonsense right now." Estella demanded. "You have no idea what things were like back then."

"Don't I?" Jessie remarked. "I was there, remember? I remember you two fighting. I remember how you would always jump on dad's case, giving him so much grief about being gone."

"I wanted your father to be with his daughter! Is that so wrong?"

"Did you ever stop to ask him what he was going through? What happened to him? No. You didn't. You just made him feel like everything was his fault."

"I don't understand this at all, Jessie."

"I just think you didn't try hard enough to stay with dad." Jessie said.

"Really?" Estella shook her head with astonishment. "Jessie, you have no idea how hard I tried to stay with your father. But he shut me out."

Jessie was done. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don't even know why I'm wasting my breath. It's not like things are going to suddenly change when dad gets back. Forget I even said anything."

"Jessie, I loved your father. I still do. But I love you more. It pains me to see you hurting like this."

"Then let me go help in the search for Jonny."

Estella shook her head. "I can't do that. You're just a child. You're not an I-1 Agent. You don't want that life, Jessie. Trust me, you don't."

"I'm not a child. I'm an adult. And how can you tell me what I want or don't want?"

"Because I'm your mother." Estella remarked. She too was tired of the conversation. Standing, she ended the discussion. "We have to go now. Benton is expecting us back shortly and we still have to go shopping."

Grumbling, Jessie stood. "Fine."

Jessie wasn't about to let the matter rest. She'd find a way to help Jonny. Even if it meant she had to do it alone. She needed her blue eyed angel and she needed him sooner rather than later.

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Stretched out on the bed of the small room, Jonny wanted to get some sleep. Closing his eyes, he thought back on his life up to this point. He was amazed at everything that happened and he found it hard to believe that up until he was rescued by Temple and Kreed, he'd never really known what true excitement felt like. Sure, he'd traveled the world with his father, had gotten into some tight situations, and even thought he'd been in love, but none of it compared to what he'd experienced alongside Greg Temple. Jonny was itching for more of whatever The Consortium had in store for him.

Eventually, his thoughts became murky and he drifted off to sleep.

 _Snow fell all around them as they gazed upon the magnificence of the Aurora Borealis._

" _What an amazing sight." Jonny exclaimed._

" _Agreed." Jessie nodded._

 _They'd just defeated Ezekiel Rage, a demented man bent on destroying the world which he saw as corrupt._

" _The beauty of this place is a reminder that there is a force of good in our world." Hadji stated._

 _Jonny looked at his brother. Hadji was wise, his cultural and mystical knowledge of so much in the world always amazed Quest. However, at the moment, Jonny found himself annoyed by his brother._

' _Why does he always have to one up me?' Jonny thought to himself. 'And especially in front of Jessie. He knows I like her.'_

 _Jonny's eyes wandered to the redhead and what he saw pushed his annoyance away, replaced by anger. Jessie's attention shifted from the Northern Lights to Jonny's brother. A smile of pure joy and delight spread across her face as she looked at the young Sultan._

" _I'm gonna head back. I'm sure dad is waiting on us." Jonny jerked his thumb over his shoulder._

" _Jonny," Hadji started when Jonny turned and trudged off through the snow._

 _Jessie frowned and ran off after Jonny. Catching up to him, she grabbed his arm to stop him. "What's the matter, Jonny?"_

" _Nothing." Jonny shrugged out of her grasp._

" _Nothing? Bull." Jessie responded firmly. "You've been acting strange a lot lately. Talk to me, Hotshot."_

" _Talk to you?" Jonny sneered at her. "Why would I do that?"_

" _Because we're friends!" Jessie huffed. "What's the matter? What's bothering you?"_

" _I said it was nothing." Jonny replied with more firmness._

" _Does this have to do with your mother?" Jessie knew that Doctor Quest was working on a project with the codename Rachel._

 _Jonny's lips curled up in disgust. "What do you know about my mother?"_

" _Jonny,"_

" _No, Jess. Leave me alone. Don't bring up my mother like she's just some sort of novelty to be used to get me to talk. Don't you dare do that!"_

" _That's not what I meant, I'm sorry." Jessie pleaded._

" _You should be, Jessie." Jonny shot back then stormed off, not giving the redhead a chance to reply._

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Music blaring, the two young members of The Consortium were getting high.

One man sat on a ratty couch in the apartment's front room, smoking a laced joint while playing video games. A girl sat next to him, a leg draped over his. Her eyes were cloudy from the drugs she had been smoking with the man.

His partner was in the kitchen, drinking and snorting drugs with the other young female the pair had picked up from a local hang out near the high school. Smiling at the woman, he pulled her into him and started kissing her.

She tensed when the man started to run his hands under her blouse. Grabbing one of her hands, he forced her to touch him down below. She tried to pull away, but he held her tight.

"Stop that." The girl protested when he pinned her against the refrigerator.

"Isn't this what you said you wanted?" The man replied, pressing his body against hers, preventing her from moving.

"No, stop." She cried.

"So you just wanted to get drunk and high?" The man grunted, continuing to grope her. "Well, now you have to pay for it."

"Stop, please."

The man sneered at her, then kissed her again. She struggled and when he leaned back, she slapped him across the face.

"You bitch." He snarled and hit the girl so hard she fell.

"Leave me alone." She attempted to scramble away, but he grabbed her legs and pulled her back across the dirty floor.

"Now you're going to pay for that." He shouted. He ripped her blouse, causing her to scream. He laughed while making a show of unzipping his pants.

"Get off me." The girl cried when he got down on the floor and climbed on top of her. His hands went under her skirt and violently tore her panties off.

"You're gonna take it and you're gonna like it, you little slut." He sneered.

"No." She whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes." He said as he pushed her legs apart and pulled down his pants. A moment later she felt him. She began to cry as the man proceeded to have his way with her.

The front door of the apartment shattered inward.

Velk was the first through the door, with Karla and Phil right behind him. Weapons raised they announced their presence and identities as Intelligence One Agents.

The man on the couch froze momentarily then vaulted to his feet. His female companion shirked backwards, screaming in fright. Throwing his controller at the advancing Agents, the man attempted to run deeper into the apartment, but Velk was on him in a heartbeat. Holstering his firearm, the I-1 man took three long strides, barreling into the retreating gunman before he made it out of the front room. The duo crashed into the wall and Velk spun the man around, knocking over the television and slamming the thug into the garbage strewn coffee table, breaking the rickety piece of furniture beneath their combined weight.

Karla went to the frightened and screaming girl, cautiously approaching the teen to calm her down while also ensuring she was not armed.

"What the fuck?" the man beneath Velk's grasp choked. "Tim!"

Corbin heard cries for help from the kitchen off to the left. Moving quickly, he found another man on the floor on top of a teenage girl. The man was in the process of standing and pulling up his pants. Moving forward, Phil holstered his weapon, grabbed him from behind and yanked him off the woman to throw him backwards into the counter.

"Remember me, asshole?" Phil growled. The man lunged, but with his pants still undone and taken by surprise, he was disoriented. Phil hit the man across the jaw with his elbow and the rapist dropped.

One of the tactical Agents came up and handcuffed the dazed and confused man. Phil turned to the terrified girl on the ground. Her eyes were wide with fright and she scooted back and away from the commotion. She was barely older than his own daughter. "Altine, get in here." He yelled.

Karla came in and knelt down next to the frightened girl, comforting her.

"All clear." One of the tactical officers shouted after turning off the music.

"Get up." Phil growled, grabbing the man by the arm and lifting him to his feet.

"You fucking asshole. I'm going to fucking kill you." The man spat.

Phil was tired of it. He grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him up against the fridge. "You tried that already and failed. I'm sick and tired of pieces of garbage like you."

"You're lucky I didn't get my hands on that fine piece of ass you call a daughter." The goon replied with a smirk.

Slamming the man's head into the fridge, Phil sneered. "You're going to fucking regret those words."

Jerking the prisoner, Phil led him out into the front room and threw him onto the couch with his partner.

"You two are under arrest for possession, attempted kidnapping, felony murder, domestic terrorism and now rape." Phil announced.

The men glared at him.

Turning to Velk he said, "Tear this place apart."

"With pleasure." Velk smiled and got to work with the other Agents.

"You have no right to be here." The video gamer said.

"I have every right to be here." Phil replied. "And I'm going to find out exactly what I want to know. You'll want to start talking before I find more things to charge you assholes with."

The men looked away.

When neither replied, Phil scoffed and looked at one of his tactical officers. "Get them out of here. Perhaps when they come down from their high they'll realize they're fucked."

The men were hauled to their feet. Sneering at Phil, the man he'd caught in the middle of raping the teenage girl, spat on the floor and said, "You have no idea who you're fucking with, Fed."

Phil stepped up to him and replied, "I know exactly who you work for. The Consortium."

The man stared back, genuinely shocked.

Phil continued, "I work for Intelligence One. The Consortium has fucked with the wrong damn Agency." Looking at his Agent, he ordered, "Get them out of my sight."

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"Where are we?" Jonny asked.

Temple pulled the vehicle towards the curb of the darkened street. The night was chilly and Jonny wrapped his arms around his chest when he stepped out of the vehicle. Earlier in the evening, he'd woken up from another one of his dreams, but the details had faded from his mind before he'd even finished getting dressed. All he knew was that whatever he had dreamt, it bothered him.

"I told you, kid, we're celebrating." Temple beamed, leading the blonde down an alley. As they drew closer to the door that Jonny assumed was their destination, he could hear a faint thumping of music.

Grumbling, Jonny didn't argue, instead he followed behind the big man. Pushing through the plain door, Jonny felt a rush of warmth wash over his body and was assaulted by the smell of cigarette and cigar smoke and faint whiffs of alcohol. Strange, foreign techno music filtered through the room from somewhere in the back; Jonny couldn't tell if it came from their location or somewhere beyond the far walls.

Turning his nose up in disgust, Jonny frowned as two women immediately came forward and wrapped their arms around Temple's neck. Jonny watched as Greg aggressively kissed one of the women while the other one ran her hands down the front of his body to squeeze his crotch.

"Easy now," Greg grunted as he pulled away.

"A whorehouse?" Jonny asked. "Really, Greg?"

"A kid?" One of the women asked in broken English. She gave Jonny an assessing look.

"He's no kid." Greg replied. Looking back at Jonny he grinned and threw in, "not anymore."

Jonny huffed. Greg saw the young man's displeasure and pushed the women away. "What's your problem, Jonny?"

"If you want to get wasted and bang some hookers, fine by me," Jonny replied, "but it isn't my thing."

"Well make it your thing." Temple spat and snatched Jonny up by the arm. Leading him inside, Greg went into one of the back rooms and roughly tossed Jonny onto a worn couch. A number of partially clothed women lounged about, but quickly departed when Temple kicked the coffee table and sneered at them. Jonny pushed himself off the couch, attempting to stand, only to be pushed back down by Temple.

"Sit down, Hotshot." Greg ordered.

"Knock it off, Greg." Jonny said, trying to bounce back to his feet. "I'm not in to this."

Temple pushed him harder and Jonny fumed. Springing to his feet, Jonny reached beneath his jacket and pulled his handgun. Pointing it at his mentor, he frowned. Temple laughed. "You going to shoot me over some pussy, boy?" Greg mocked.

"I just don't want to do this, man, that's all." Jonny argued.

Temple shook his head. Reaching in to his jacket he withdrew a pack of cigarettes, lit one, then grinned back at Jonny who kept the gun pointed at him the enter time. "You scared? Is that it? Have you been lying to me this whole time? Did you never hook up with Bannon's girl? You a virgin?"

"No," Jonny shot back. "I'm not a virgin, I just…"

Temple attacked. With lighting speed his right hand shot forward, snagging Jonny's wrist and pushing the gun aside while his left hand lashed out and smacked the side of Jonny's head with an open palm.

"What the fuck, Greg?" Jonny stammered as Temple ripped the gun from Jonny's hand and pushed the blonde back onto the couch.

Turning the weapon in his grip, Temple pressed the barrel of the gun against the side of Jonny's head. "You ever pull a fucking gun on me again, Hotshot, it'll be the last thing you ever do. You get me?"

"Jesus, man," Jonny raised his hands; the side of his head stinging from Temple's hit.

"I said you get me?" Temple shouted and pressed the barrel harder against Jonny's skull.

"Yeah…yeah…I get you. I'm sorry." Jonny cowered.

A smile replaced Temple's scowl and he backed off. "All I wanted was to take you out and celebrate. You did a hell of a job during the convoy op, especially in dealing with that guard at the checkpoint." He didn't unload the weapon, instead spinning it around in his hand and handing it back to Jonny. "If you don't want to stay here it's okay. We can go somewhere else."

Shuddering, Jonny took the gun from Temple's hand. Brushing his leather coat aside, he holstered the weapon. "No. We can stay. Look, I'm still kind of wound up from the mission, that's all. Greg, that cop looked right at me." He couldn't stop his voice from wavering when he spoke.

"And you dropped him before he could drop you…or me." Temple replied as he took a drag from his smoke. Snapping his fingers he got the attention of a passing girl and motioned for her to bring them some drinks. Looking back at Jonny, Greg explained, "You did what you had to do."

Shaking his head, Jonny sighed. "I know, but it's still a weird feeling. I've never killed anyone before."

"Don't fret, kid. You'll get used to it."

The girl returned and placed two shot glasses on the low coffee table and filled them with vodka. Taking the bottle from the woman, Temple smacked her on the ass as she left and sat down next to Jonny. Smiling at the kid, he set the bottle down and picked up the shot glasses. Handing one to Jonny, Temple's cigarette dangled from his lips as he raised the glass and said, "To you, Jonny Quest, the newest full-fledged member of The Consortium."

Taking the glass, Jonny smiled sheepishly at Temple's praise and downed the alcohol. He choked as the potent liquid burned his throat and stomach. Temple laughed and poured another round; Jonny drank again.

"That's the spirit, Hotshot!" Temple boomed as he snubbed out his smoke. Reaching into his jacket, he withdrew the pack of cigarettes and set it on the table. Then he pulled a baggie of hand rolled joints from another pocket. Taking one out, he lit it and inhaled. Jonny could smell the marijuana immediately, but also something else that he couldn't identify.

Taking another long drag, Temple grinned then handed the joint to the blonde. Jonny put it to his lips and sucked deeply, inhaling a lungful of the drug. He coughed, smiled and then hit it again.

Jonny banged his chest, "What the fuck is this?"

Temple took the joint back and took another hit. Then he let it tangle in his mouth, freeing his hands. After another round of vodka shots between the two, Temple pulled a vial out of his jacket and dumped the contents onto the coffee table, spreading it out into four lines. Setting the joint down in an ashtray, Temple pulled a Euro out of his pants pocket.

"Is that coke?" Jonny's eyes were wide. He shook his head. "I don't know, Greg…"

"Don't be a wuss, Jonny." Greg rolled up the Euro then snorted one of the lines. "And it's not _just_ coke." He said as he leaned his head back and smiled.

"What is it?" He asked when Temple handed him the rolled up bill.

"Don't ask questions, Hotshot. Just relax and have some fun." Temple responded.

Inhaling, Jonny built up the courage. Not wanting to look weak in front of Temple, but also finding that he was actually starting to enjoy himself, Jonny leaned down and snorted the drug up his nose.

Leaning back he shuddered and pinched his nostrils. "Fuck that burns."

Temple laughed, reaching for the bill. Jonny pushed his hand away and Temple's grin widened as Jonny leaned back down and snorted his second line up his other nostril.

"That's my boy!" Temple cheered and smacked Jonny on the back. Taking the bill back, he finished off the last of the drug then relit the joint, inhaled a puff, and handed it back to Jonny.

As mentor and mentee drank and got high a few of the women came back in to the room. One took a seat next to Temple and rubbed his leg provocatively. He draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. Growling, Temple pressed his mouth against the woman's neck as his other hand fondled her breasts.

Jonny heard his mentor groan with sexual excitement while the prostitute laughed excitedly from Temple's roughness. With Temple's attention focused on the hooker, Jonny eyed the two other women, a brunette and a redhead.

Jonny took another hit from the joint and tapped his elbow against Greg. Turning away from his woman, Temple saw the girls that had caught the young man's eye and grinned. "You like what you see?" He grumbled and nudged Jonny in return.

Jonny nodded. His head was in the clouds and this throat was dry from the drugs and booze, but he didn't care. He liked how he felt and even more he liked the sight before him. "Yeah."

"Which one do you want?"

Jonny's head swam, his eyes moving between the two girls that stood waiting for him to make his decision. Finally, Jonny pointed at the girl he wanted; the brunette.

Temple stood, his woman still attached to his side; her hand down the front of his pants. Looking at the woman that grabbed Jonny's interest, Temple smiled and ordered, "Go show my boy what a real woman can do for him."

The woman nodded and sat down next to Jonny. She ran a hand through his hair and started to kiss the side of his face forcing Jonny to lean back against the couch. He heard Temple snicker somewhere off to the side, "Have fun, Hotshot. I'm gonna take care of this one. Be back in a bit."

Jonny groaned and waved a hand dismissively. He didn't care what the hell Temple was going to do. The only thing on his mind was the woman next to him that was currently unfastening his pants, her head lowering into his lap.

Jonny groaned. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of the woman's mouth and tongue as she pleasured him.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **Author's Note: I'd be remiss in posting this chapter if I did not take a moment to thank those that have supported and helped me with this story.**

 **Goddess Evie, thank you. You've greatly improved so many parts and helped me remember that Jonny is not lost to us or Jessie. He needs to hang on to what little he has. Thank you for your help with the scene in this chapter and all the rest of your help throughout.**

 **ForeverWells, woman you are the best! You know this! You've given me so much to think about while developing this story. Many things have changed or been altered based on your feedback and suggestions. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in writing action scenes that I forget the core of this tale is Jessie and Jonny and their fight to be back together. So, again, thank you.**

 **TJ, I hope you enjoy the tale up to this point. I'm sorry for causing emotional distress, I truly am, but Jonny needs to hurt in order to get better. Does that even make sense? Your story has shown me that one can blend romance with action and make it work. That is what I've tried to achieve with these stories. Please continue to enjoy!**

 **Other readers and guests, I hope you all continue to enjoy this tale.**

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"This guy is even slimier than his photo and file led me to believe." Race grumbled.

He was seated alongside Jade at a secluded, large rounded booth in the hotel bar. Drinking a high priced scotch, he observed Martucci saunter into the establishment with an air about him that would lead one to believe he owned the place. His look and demeanor made Race's skin crawl.

"Guys like him usually are." Jade purred, sipping her wine.

Martucci made eye contact and made his way over to their table. Standing, Race greeted the banker with his best smile. "Signor Martucci, thank you for taking the time to meet with me."

"Of course, Signor Blackburn." The man replied.

"Care for a drink?" Race asked, motioning for the new arrival to take a seat and then gestured for the waitress' attention.

"Yes, thank you." When the waitress arrived, Martucci smiled grossly at the woman and ordered a glass of wine.

"This is my friend, Miss Jade." Race indicated Jade who smiled seductively at the banker.

Martucci beamed and kissed the woman's hand. Jade hoped her cringe wasn't noticeable. "Signorina Jade. A pleasure."

Jade smiled back, but said nothing. The waitress returned, deposited the man's drink, then left.

"So, Signor Blackburn. I was told you were interested in some real estate ventures?"

Race nodded. "I have my eye on some available properties in and around Rome. Having heard that you were the best at what you do, I wanted to give you an opportunity for consignment in my interests."

Martucci nodded as Race spoke. He ran a finger along the stem of his glass while shooting sideways glances towards Jade every few seconds. Looking back at Race, the man replied, "What would these properties be used for?"

"That's my business, Signor." Race replied evenly.

"I see," Martucci hummed. "It was only a question."

"My business with you is strictly financial. Other than that, I think it's best we don't ask too many questions."

Martucci sipped his wine. "I can appreciate a man that values his privacy, Signor Blackburn."

"As do I." Race replied. He was having difficulty reading the banker.

"I heard of your arrival, Signor." Martucci stated. "They say you possess a fine automobile."

Race grinned. "I like to live on the wild side."

Martucci eyed Jade again. "In more ways than one, I see."

In response, Race leaned over and pecked Jade on the cheek. "We both have a bit of a wild side. I hear the same about you, Signor Martucci. They say you have quite a fine collection of classic automobiles and vehicles yourself."

"I do." Martucci answered. "There are many things that capture my attention and fine cars is just one of those interests."

"And fine women?" Jade asked playfully.

Martucci shrugged, "At times. Both can be considered wise investments." He turned his attention back to Race. "Tell me what made you interested in vehicles, Signor Blackburn."

Race saw the man was relaxing, so he decided to lay it on a bit thicker. "I remember it like it was yesterday. I was fifteen years old and running with the wrong crowd as we say in America. I stole my first care on a dare."

"A dare?" Martucci inquired.

"Like a bet." Race explained. "My friends said I didn't have the guts to do it. There was this old geezer that lived in the nicer part of town and his prize possession was a 1969 Ford Mustang Mach I, totally restored. One night we snuck onto his property and I hotwired the car and took it for a joyride."

"Interesting." The banker grinned. "What happened?"

Race laughed. "I was at the front of the pack in a high speed chase with the local cops. Bastards finally got me when I lost control and wrapped the car around a telephone pole. Amazingly, I was unhurt for the most part, but I spent some time in lock up for my crazy antics. The judge reduced my sentence to joyriding versus grand theft auto. The moment I was released, I was the leader of my little gang of friends and we spent our free time finding more cars to boost."

"You went from a car thief to a millionaire real estate broker? Quite a dramatic turn, Signor Blackburn."

"Well, I never lost my love of cars and I knew I'd need money to support my interests. I grew up as they say. Real estate came as naturally to me as heisting cars. I just channeled my talents into that in order to stay out of prison."

Martucci sipped his wine then let out a bellowing laugh. "That is quite a story, Signor Blackburn. A man with guts and determination is a man I'd be interested in doing business with. You are a risk taker, as am I."

"I appreciate that, Signor Martucci."

"Come to my villa, Signor Blackburn. The evening after tomorrow I am hosting a party. I would be honored to have you and Signorina Jade as my guests. I'd like to show you my own collection. However you must promise not to steal any of them."

Race laughed and downed his drink. "I'll try my best, Signor."

Martucci stood. "Then it is settled. You will be my guests Friday evening. I ask that you bring your Gumpert Apollo. Perhaps you would allow me to take it for a test drive. I've always wanted to get my hands on one, yet they are so rare."

"Of course." Race nodded.

"Until Friday evening then." Martucci grinned, then bowed his head slightly. "Signor Blackburn." He then kissed Jade's hand again, "Signorina."

"Looking forward to it." Race stated.

Once Martucci departed, they paid for their drinks and made their way back to Race's suite.

Once inside the luxurious room, Jade shook her head. "I need to wash my hands. In fact, I think I need a full shower. The creep factor vibes coming off of that guy was too much."

Race laughed a little. "Yeah. But we have our in. He obviously had an eye for you, Jade."

"Can you blame him?" Jade asked with a wink. "But I thought his interests were in a much younger type of companion and one of the same gender as you two."

"From what I can tell it appears Martucci is willing to take whatever he can get." Race shuddered. "Either way, I may need you to show him a bit more attention Friday night."

Jade groaned and rolled her eyes. "I just have to remind myself that I'm doing this for Jonny."

"And me." Race added with a smile.

"You owe me, handsome." Jade laughed.

"You want payment now or later?" Race grinned and wrapped the woman up in his arms, kissing her lightly on the lips. Her perfume was intoxicating.

Guiding him into the bedroom, Jade turned to face him again and leaned into his body, running her hands along his chest to push his suit jacket from his shoulders. Their mouths were mere inches apart, she was so close, Race's mind shot into overdrive. Their lips touched, lightly grazing each other as she replied, ""Now." Jade purred.

Grabbing her waist, Race pulled her into him, pressing his lips with aggressive desire onto hers, their tongues intertwining as she moaned against him. He growled at the sweet taste of her lips, the faint traces of wine stinging his tongue.

Her fingers pulled at the knot of his tie then worked to unbutton his shirt. Within seconds his jacket, tie, and shirt were gone, exposing his perfect pecs. A lustful growl escaped her lips as she ran her tongue down the center of his chest, moving towards a nipple to playfully tease him. She could feel the increased beating of his heart as his strong, powerful hands tussled her hair. Her tongue tasted him, as she moved back up to meet his waiting lips.

Kissing her deeply, Race felt her hands travelling down his abdomen. Unbuckling his belt, Jade pressed herself against his erection, moving and groaning with desire against him. A moment later, she pushed his pants down so she could wrap her hands around him, stroke him. She smiled as their lips continued to explore each other and Race's eyes closed.

Kneeling, Jade felt her own wants coursing through her as Race looked down and watched her pleasure him. Teasing him at first, she ran her tongue along him, making him moan and ache in her grasp. She moaned as she took him in her mouth, pleasing him and fulfilling his desires. Race threw his head back, groaning like an animal. "Yeah." He muttered as he ran his fingers through her hair, lacing the silky locks between his thumb and forefinger. "Keep going." He moaned as she increased her rhythm, causing Race to rock his hips, her lips pushing him to the brink.

When he felt he was only moments away, he pulled back. Reaching down he lifted Jade to her feet. Kissing her again, he enjoyed the moistness of her lips. Without parting their mouths, Race somehow managed to strip off the rest of his clothes.

"Make love to me, Bannon" Jade breathed in his ear as her hand once again moved to stroke him. "But don't be gentle."

His hands clamped down on her hips and he turned and pinned her against the wall with his own body. Jade moaned, her mouth open, breathing heavily as Race's lips sucked on her earlobe as he rocked against her.

He growled unintelligibly as he hiked up her dress and used his thumbs to remove her panties. Pressing his lips against hers again, a hand on her throat, he lifted her off her feet while at the same time pushing inside her.

Jade inhaled sharply when she felt him enter her. Immediately, she tightened around him as he thrust against her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his waist, Jade held on to her lover, moaning his name over and over as he took her with a ferociousness she'd never experienced with him before.

His thrusts were hard, forceful and he alternated between quick movements and deliberate, aggressive drives. He kept one hand on her neck, his other holding her leg firmly. His fingers traced her lips as her tongue ran along the tips of them. She moaned heavily with each of Race's pushes, "Oh yeah," She mumbled as he picked up his pace. "This is how I like it."

He responded by increasing both his speed and his thrusts. His hand tightened around her throat and he pushed her harder against the wall. Jade bit down on her lower lip as he continued to take her in a way that sent shockwaves coursing through her entire body.

"Yes!" She screamed, her breathing increasing along with his pace. Race felt her tighten around him. Without leaving her, he pulled her away from the wall, turned and fell on top of her on to the bed.

"I need this so bad." Race gazed into her eyes as he pushed against her with one deep thrust.

Jade locked her gaze with his and she saw a furious animalistic demeanor in his eyes. She leaned up and kissed him, "I know you do."

Her words soaked into his brain. Losing himself, he gave into his wants and let himself go. She couldn't keep her hands off of him when he moved back to free her of her dress and once she was naked he was back on top of her. Pushing faster against her, he drove deeper with each of Jade responsive moans. Her arms were tight around his neck, pulling him down against her body.

Her whimpers grew louder until she finally threw her head back and cried out his name. He enjoyed it, he enjoyed feeling her trembling beneath his body and around him. He kept going, not letting Jade move, and as he kept driving into her, he finally climaxed himself.

With one final thrust, he pushed against her, deep inside her. With a long grunt, he growled her name with desire. Feeling the last of him, Jade's trembles and shakes began to subside.

The moment he finished he moved off and collapsed onto the bed next to her. Jade's entire body was awash with flurries. They had shared themselves with each other countless times in the past, but never had Jade felt such a deep connection based on Race's actions. Something had ignited inside of him and while the result was pure bliss, she also couldn't help but think he needed the release to expel all of the built up stress and pain he'd been suffering as of late.

In the end, she didn't know what to think. She had enjoyed it, she had thoroughly enjoyed it, but she also felt something that she had never felt before when she was with Race Bannon; for a few moments, when their eyes locked, it was as if she didn't know him.

Leaning over he kissed her lightly on the lips, then on the forehead. "I'm going to take a shower." He spoke softly as he traced a finger along the side of her face.

Jade kissed his lips in return. "Alright."

"You okay?" He asked as their lips parted.

Jade nodded and put on her best smile. "Yes I am, Race. Whenever I'm with you, I'm okay."

He seemed to accept her answer and with another smile and peck on the lips, he stood then headed for the bathroom.

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"What information do you have for me?" Temple asked the moment his contact walked into the apartment.

"Bannon is in Rome, along with a woman named Jade." The contact, a thin Ukrainian in an expensive suit replied.

"I know Jade." Temple shut the door.

The Ukrainian made his way to the kitchen and sat down at the round table, acting like he owned the place. He nodded at Temple's remark, then took one of the American's cigarettes and lit it.

"Help yourself." Temple grumbled. He took a seat next to the man.

A smile spread across the newcomers face. Puffing on the smoke, he withdrew two envelopes and tossed it on the table in Temple's direction. Opening the manila folder, Temple studied the documents. The other envelope was filled with cash.

"Your friend Bannon is going to learn more than you wish him to know." The man stated, drawing Temple's gaze away from the documents.

"I can handle Bannon. I just need somewhere I can…work."

The informant nodded. "There is an abandoned military installation in Bavaria. The story goes that it was once used by the Nazis to perform interrogations and experiments. Some of the equipment remains."

Temple grinned his approval.

"How do you anticipate going after Bannon when The Consortium needs you in Moscow?"

Temple frowned. "Bannon is a problem that the board doesn't want to deal with at the moment. But he needs to be dealt with and quickly before he learns too much. I have people that can keep an eye on him for the time being. Where is he staying?"

"Near Vatican City. The details are in the packet, Mister Temple." The Ukrainian answered.

"Good. I'm looking forward to this reunion." Temple chuckled deeply.

JQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQ

 _Jessie…_

Last night had been…amazing. Every time they were together it just got better.

Jonny reached for her, but found only empty bed. His mind rocketed immediately into full consciousness.

"Ugh." Jonny moaned, opening his eyes. His head pounded, the inside of his mouth felt like it was caked with salt and his entire body was sore. Blinking, he wiped the crust from his eyes and looked around; he was back in the bedroom of the Kiev safe house; he had no recollection of leaving the brothel.

And of course there was no Jessie. He'd not been with her last night. It had been that brunette.

' _Could've had a red head.'_

A part of him had wanted to. Would've served Jessie right for all she'd put him through. But the sight of the woman had turned his stomach.

Jonny found himself thinking back on the whole of the events of the previous night. He'd given in so easily to Temple's insistences at the brothel and Jonny couldn't figure out why. He assumed part of it had to do with the drugs and alcohol, but why he'd decided to sleep with the young brunette was somewhat perplexing. Besides Jessie, the brunette was the only other woman he'd ever gone all the way with…and he hadn't even bother to ask her for her name.

He remembered waking up from his impromptu nap the day prior and feeling uncomfortable. While he couldn't recall the contents of his dream, either then or now, he knew that whatever he'd dreamt about had disturbed him. The dreams he could recall were also confusing; it was like he was remembering his past more so than dreaming, but the memories didn't seem real, especially the ones about Jessie and Hadji.

 _Was he remembering them wrong?_

Shaking his head, he forced the questioning thoughts away. Jessie left him. He knew that. Temple and Kreed had even shown him that not only had Jessie left him at the mercy of the traffickers, but she ran into the arms of his brother. Jonny could have found a way to justify Jessie's abandonment, it was all about survival back then, but for her to then betray him and run to his brother was more than Jonny was willing to tolerate.

' _No,'_ he told himself. _'Temple is right. They don't love me. They never did. None of them ever did. Not dad or Hadji or even Race. But especially Jessie. If Jessie truly loved me she wouldn't have stabbed a knife through my fucking heart.'_

Frowning, Jonny pushed the thoughts away. None of that matter at the moment. He'd deal with the betrayals when the time was right. He heard voices coming from the front room. Forcing himself out of the bed, he quickly threw on a pair of pants and a long sleeve shirt, made a quick stop at the bathroom, then went to find the source of the voices.

Making his way to the kitchen, Jonny heard the voices growing louder, one was Temple. He also inhaled the aroma of freshly brew Turkish coffee and turned his nose up at the stench of cigarettes; he wished Temple hadn't taken up smoking.

"Hey, looks who's awake?" Temple chuckled as Jonny emerged in the doorway, frowned and then made a beeline for the coffee.

The view beyond the windows was bleak; a dreary scene of concrete tenements and grey skies. "Is it always so depressing looking here?" Jonny asked as he poured himself some java then leaned against the counter.

Greg was seated at the kitchen table. He was wearing jeans and boots, but no shirt. Jonny was impressed by his mentor's muscled frame, especially for a man his age. Old military style tattoos intermixed with evil looking skulls and snakes adorned one of his well-defined upper arms. His other arm sported a strange symbol; an intricate tattoo that represented his affiliation with The Consortium. His Colt 1911 was holstered on his hip. Temple was smoking and drinking coffee. He was counting a large number of bills that were stacked on the table.

The other occupant of the room was an operator for The Consortium, but Jonny had never seen him before. He was a thin man, much younger than Temple, but possessed the look of a sadistic killer. He wore an expensive suit and Jonny noticed he also wore combat boots beneath his well-tailored trousers. He wore his dark hair long on the top, yet partially shaved on the sides and his brown eyes revealed his nefarious nature. Also smoking, he grinned at Jonny's statement as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"Kiev is unforgiving to foreigners. Soon you shall feel her wintery bite." The man stated.

Temple shook his head and smirked. "Ivan here fancies himself a poet or something."

The man sneered at Temple and replied. "My name is not Ivan, you ignorant American."

Temple laughed as he continued to count the money. To Jonny it appeared the two men were something akin to friends and their insults nothing more than playful jabs at each other. Sipping his coffee, Jonny glanced out the window.

"Did you enjoy yourself with my ladies last night, young Quest?" Ivan asked.

Jonny gave the man a nod, if for no other reason than to get him off the subject of Jonny and his all night romp with his companion.

"See," Temple said as he stubbed out his smoke, "That's why I don't want him going back to work for Kreed. I wonder about that dainty Brit sometimes."

"I'm not a kid," Jonny scoffed. "You said so yourself."

Temple huffed. "You know what I mean."

Jonny sneered in response as he sipped his coffee.

Looking back at the handsome visitor Temple got back to business. "Tell me about the Moscow job."

"It is an elimination and recovery job. The target will be in possession of a formula that can be very detrimental to The Consortium's efforts. Your role is to eliminate the target. A second operative will make the recovery." Ivan replied casually. "The details are in the packet."

"When do we leave?"

"The day after tomorrow. That should give you sufficient time to scout the best areas within the Red Square to conduct the hit." Ivan answered. "The target is meeting with dignitaries at the Kremlin sometime in the coming weeks. You cannot allow him to make the exchange. He needs to be stopped before that time, however we do not have the exact time and date as of yet."

"Then we should hit him now." Temple countered.

Ivan shook his head. "We do not believe he has the formula at this time or if he does have it, he has hidden it too well. We know for a fact that he will have it in his possession when he goes to the meeting. That is when you must take him out."

Temple grumbled his reply. "Fine."

Ivan nodded as he stood. He fastened one of the buttons on his suit jacket, then extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray on the table. "I do hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in beautiful Kiev, Mister Quest."

Grabbing a number of bills off of one of the stacks, Temple held them out to Ivan. "For last night."

Ivan smiled and waved him off, then locked his eyes on Jonny. "That is not necessary. Consider it a gift for young Quest for his mission and the completion of his training. We need more men like him in our ranks." Stepping forward, he moved in front of Jonny and placed his hand on Jonny's arm, "But next time, it will cost you."

Jonny shrugged away from the man. Laughing, Ivan headed for the door. "Gentlemen, watch your backs…as always."

After Ivan departed Temple kicked out one of the chairs, indicating for Jonny to sit. After refilling his coffee and getting a fresh one for Greg, Jonny joined him at the table.

"How you feeling, Jonny?" Temple asked, sipping the coffee.

"Sore." Jonny answered honestly.

A sly smile appeared on Temple's lips. Then he asked, "What about your head?"

Jonny turned his eyes away. "I've never done drugs before. It was different…but…I liked it."

Temple tsked. "You've never done drugs willingly."

"What?" Jonny asked.

"Kreed's concoctions." Temple grumbled with a frown. If Jonny hadn't known better, he'd think that Temple was almost remorseful about his role in force feeding those drugs to Jonny. "But that doesn't matter anymore. I just wanted to make sure you had a good time."

"I did." Jonny answered. "Honestly, I did."

"Good." Temple leaned back in his chair. "Because it's back to business."

"Moscow?"

Temple scratched his stubble as he replied. "Yep."

Jonny caught a slight waver in his mentor's eyes. Temple was hiding something. "Is that it? What were you two talking about before I came out here?"

Temple wasn't about to share his plans for Bannon with Jonny at the moment. "That was unrelated to our assignment, Jonny. Forget about it. It was nothing."

If Jonny had learned anything about Greg Temple, it was that it was best not to pry too much with the man. Whatever Temple was hiding, Jonny had to assume it was unrelated to their next mission. However, that still didn't stop him from wondering what else was really going on.

He decided to change the subject. "Where's Kreed?"

Temple shrugged. "Off doing whatever it is he does. Lucius Kreed prefers not to get his hands dirty. His biggest contribution to The Consortium is he brings in money and other assets; it goes back to his days as a smuggler and arms dealer. He's cunning and the rest of the board gives him the leeway to operate in his own strange ways because he gets results."

"So when am I going to meet the rest of the board members?"

"Soon enough, kid. I'm actually looking forward to it." Temple remarked cryptically.

"Why's that?"

"Because you already know them." Temple answered with a laugh.

JQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQ

Corbin tossed the folder onto the conference room table. Velk, Dugger, and Altine pilfered through the documents, assembling the reports into separate categories for filing.

"These punks had a hell of an arsenal in that shithole apartment." Velk grumbled. Piled in front of him were crime scene photos of the assortment of weapons that were found in the apartment. "I'm sure ballistics will match this MP5 to the one they used to kill the third assailant." He tapped his fingers on the appropriate picture.

"No doubt." Phil scratched the side of his face, thinking. "We need to start tracing these weapons to the source. I'm sure each and every one is illegal and if we can figure out who supplied these weapons that might get us one step closer." Turning to Altine, he asked. "What about the drugs?"

The Hispanic woman shook her head, "Just about every illicit drug on the street was found in that apartment; marijuana, speed, meth, cocaine, even heroin and bath salts. It's amazing those two were even still alive if they were consuming these drugs."

"Probably distributing on top of using." Dugger interjected.

Phil grabbed one of the photos. It pictured twelve small individual packets. Inside each packet was a powdery substance. "Any luck on identifying what these contained?"

"The initial field test was inconclusive." Karla replied with a look of disappointment. "From what the lab can tell it's a combination of a multitude of different narcotics. They're having difficultly separating and analyzing the samples in order to identify each individual component."

"It's a cocktail of some kind." Dugger replied. "Back in the swamps, I knew guys that would mix all sorts of different drugs in order to achieve the best and most long lasting high they could. Some ended up pretty bad off, frying their brains completely. Shit was scary down there, one of the reasons I got the hell out when I could. Maybe this is something similar."

"Could be." Phil nodded. "Tell the lab to keep pushing forward. If this is what The Consortium is using to control the people it purchases or kidnaps, knowing what is in it will help us determine if there's a way to reverse the damage it causes."

"You sound almost sympathetic, boss." Velk remarked. "These guys did try to kidnap your family and you saw what that one creep was doing."

"I know," Phil replied flatly. "These two are more than likely a lost cause. I'm concerned with Jonny. If The Consortium is turning these kids into criminals and killers I want to know one, why they are doing it and two, if it's going to be possible to bring them back from the effects of this stuff."

Velk nodded. "Got it."

"For now, keep at it and tell the lab to keep working its angle as well. Dugger, come with me."

"Where are we going?" Pete asked as he stood.

"Let's go have a chat with our new friends." Phil answered, causing the Cajun to smile.

Staring through the observation window, Corbin and Dugger watched the first man. His name was Timothy Sterns and he was the man Phil pulled off the teenage girl back in the apartment. Sterns' face was darkened and he stared at the window in a way that made it seem like he knew he was currently being observed. Every now and again, Sterns would twitch, bite his tongue, and then lick his lips. Corbin figured it was a reaction of not taking the drugs.

When he and Dugger walked into the room, the man continued to stare at the window, ignoring the two men completely. Neither Agent sat down, instead they stood just in front of the door once Dugger closed it.

"You ready to talk, Tim?" Corbin asked.

The man stopped fidgeting when he heard his name. Slowly turning his head, he stared at the two Agents with a look of hate. His face was drawn, with bloodshot eyes and cracked lips. Leaning back in his chair, he jerked on the chains that secured his hands and feet to the floor.

"Take these off, tough guy, and let's talk man to man." Sterns growled.

"Not happening." Corbin answered.

"Fucking coward." Sterns laughed.

"Give me a minute with him, boss." Dugger grunted, popping his knuckles.

Phil held a hand up to quiet his Agent. "One chance, Mister Sterns. As you can see, we know who you are. I want to know about The Consortium."

Sterns leered at the Agents. With a look of contempt, he snorted, then spit on the floor. "There's my answer, pigs."

"Whatever you're on, I imagine the detox is going to be very unpleasant." Corbin replied. "Enjoy your suffering." Turning to Dugger, he said, "Let's go."

Without another look back, the Agents left the defiant young man and made their way to the second interrogation room. "You have no idea how much I want to break that snot-nosed punk's face right now, boss."

"Oh, believe me, I do, Dug." Phil answered. "Probably almost as much as I want to break it too."

The second man, Stephen Hayes, appeared much more reserved and scared. He shook visibly, rocking in his chair, his lips moving. Phil studied the man's packet. "This one's much younger and from the missing persons report, he's only been gone two years."

Entering the second room, the Agents studied the younger criminal, his eyes wide with uncertainty when he looked at the two Government Agents.

This time, Phil sat down across from the prisoner. Smoothing his tie with his hand, he took a seat. Dugger hovered to Phil's right and smiled when the prisoner looked at him before quickly turning away.

"Stephen Hayes," Phil started, reading the file he set out before him. "Two years ago you left your after school job where you worked to help support your single mother, Lucy, and your little brother, Paul. However, you never made it home from work that night. Your mother reported you missing the following day, but the police never found you and chalked you up as a runaway. But that's not what happened, was it, Stephen?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Hayes' voice was shaky. He'd stopped rocking, but now picked at the edge of the table with his fingernails.

"You coming down off of something, Stephen?" Phil asked, trying to sound sympathetic to the man's plight.

"What?" Hayes asked.

"You're behaving pretty antsy right now. Weed doesn't do that to you." Phil replied casually. "What else are you on?"

Hayes shrugged and looked away.

"Is it something you take willingly or did Sterns make you take it? It's obvious he's the leader of your little band…well, what's left of it anyways."

Hayes looked at Corbin and shook his head. "It's just an adrenaline booster, that's all."

"Is that what Sterns told you?"

"Not Sterns."

"Then who? One of the other members of your crew?"

Again, Hayes shrugged noncommittally.

Corbin changed his tactic. Thumbing through the folder, he found a scanned copy of an old photograph of Hayes, his mother and his little brother. "That's your mom and Paul. Do you remember them?"

Hayes stared at the photo, his eyes were murky, but recognition slowly began to form before disappearing in a flash. "I…I can't remember."

"That's because The Consortium damaged your brain with whatever drugs they've been feeding you for the past two years."

Hayes shook his head. "No, that's not true. The Consortium takes care of us. They're my family, not these people."

Phil sighed. "No, Stephen. These people are your family. Do you remember why your father isn't in this picture? It's because he was a drunk and would hit you and your mom. Then when he started hitting Paul, you finally stood up to him. Remember that? Remember standing up to your old man? Standing up for what was right? To protect people, not hurt them? Do you remember the night your old man beat your mom and when he went after Paul you beat him half to death with a baseball bat? The police showed up that night and took your father away. I have the report here in your file."

Hayes looked at the photo again. Corbin glanced at Dugger briefly, then continued. "Stephen Hayes Sr. died in prison, son. He was knifed by a rival gang member as an initiation ritual. He can't hurt you, your mom or your brother anymore. And neither can The Consortium, but only if you let me help you. And I can only help you if you help me."

"Can I have some water? Maybe a smoke?" Hayes asked. He was trying to fight back tears.

"Sure." Corbin nodded. Dugger waved at the window; he wouldn't leave Phil alone with the prisoner.

A minute later, another Agent entered. He opened a bottle of water and set it on the table, then looked at Phil. "It's alright, give him the cigarettes."

The Agent nodded and set a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a disposable ashtray in front of the man. Taking one of the smokes, Hayes had to work a little due to his restraints, but he managed to light it and inhaled deeply. Then he took the bottle of water and shook it.

Phil studied his actions. "Why did you just do that?"

"Do what?" Hayes asked.

"Why did you shake the bottle? Its only water."

Hayes appeared caught off guard by the question, yet he simply shrugged and replied. "I don't know."

Phil let it go. "Okay, that's fine. No big deal. Tell me about the other night in D.C."

Hayes tensed. "I was just the driver. I had no idea what was going to happen, I swear."

"How could you not know?" Dugger asked suspiciously.

"Sterns was in charge and that's how he ran the operations. He learned it from his mentor. Each guy had a role and they only knew what that role was, nothing else. I only found out about the rest of it after we fled. That's when Sterns filled me in."

"Explain this to me. Explain to me these roles." Phil stated.

"Like I said, I was the driver. Sterns was in charge. The two guys on the street, they were to distract you and snatch the women while the third guy…" Hayes trailed off, looking away.

"He was supposed to come up from behind while I was distracted and kill me. Got it." Phil answered for him.

"Yeah." Hayes nodded a little. "But it obviously didn't work out."

"Obviously." Phil rolled his eyes.

"I didn't even know Sterns was going to shoot the other guy. That freaked me out, man. He just gunned him down like it was nothing. After that I was scared. I mean, I didn't know if he was going to shoot me next. He said to drive back to Richmond and I did. That's it, I swear to you, that's it."

"What did you do between getting back to Richmond and us arresting you?" Dugger inquired.

Hayes shrugged and lit another cigarette. "Sterns called in his report and it wasn't pleasant. The Consortium doesn't tolerate fuck ups, you know? He was hot, super amped you. He wanted to get high, so that's what we did. We got some booze and drugs and got wasted."

"Along with some underage girls." Pete grumbled.

"I didn't touch those girls, man." Hayes injected quickly. "That was all Sterns. He wanted those girls. The one on the couch with me was just getting stoned. I swear I didn't mess with her. You can do whatever tests you need to, I swear."

Phil held up a hand, he could tell the man was getting worked up. "Okay, calm down."

Hayes relaxed slightly.

"Tell me more about The Consortium. You said Sterns called in his report. Who did he call it in to? The same person who ordered the hit on me?"

Hayes' shoulders slumped at the question. Phil noted the prisoner's behavior was all over the place, but whenever The Consortium was mentioned he became agitated. "I assume so." The man finally answered in a low tone.

"Who was it? Do you have a name?" Corbin pushed.

"I only know code names. I didn't get the opportunity to train where Tim trained. I was at a different camp." Hayes replied.

"Okay, so give me the code name of Sterns' contact." Phil stated.

Hayes looked Phil dead in the eyes and replied. "They call him The Viper. He's an American, ex-military or spook like you guys. That's all I know."

"You said something about training camps. Where did they take you?" Dugger asked.

"The desert."

"Which one?" Dugger grumbled. "There's lots of deserts, boy."

Hayes eyed Dugger with a hint of fear. Sighing he replied, "I don't know for sure. They didn't tell us where we were. But I do remember seeing signs in what I think was Arabic. That's all I remember. It was a long time ago. I've been with Sterns for almost a year."

"What else can you tell us?" Phil asked.

Hayes put out his cigarette. "Can I see the picture again?"

Phil handed Hayes the family photo. The young man stared for a long moment at it. His face was forlorn and tired all of a sudden. Setting the photo down, Hayes said, "Will I be able to see them?"

Phil nodded. "We'll make arrangements. Look, Stephen, what happened to you isn't your fault. The Consortium did this to you. But it just as easily could have been Paul. How would you feel about that? If they did to your little brother what they did to you?"

Shaking his head, Hayes reached for another smoke. Corbin observed him shaking again. "It's fucked up, man."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Stephen. You're going to end up doing time. But I can arrange for it to be a reduced sentence and somewhere The Consortium can't get to you. I can have your identity changed. If you help me, I can help you have some sort of life after all this is over. I need to know where this man called The Viper can be found."

"Shit, man," Hayes stated. "I don't know. Seriously, I want to help, but I don't know. He moves around a lot."

"Alright," Phil stood, gathering up his paperwork. He took the photo back from Hayes. "My Agents will take you back to your cell. Think about it and if you can recall anything else, let my men know and they'll come find me."

Hayes nodded. "Can I keep the smokes?"

Phil shook his head. "You can have one more in here. You can't take the lighter with you. Sorry, this is my building and I only bend the rules so much. You can have them back next time we talk."

With a huff, Hayes nodded. "Are you going to tell my family what I did?"

"They're going to find out one way or another." Phil stated.

"When you find them, if they want to see me, can you let me tell them what I'm in for?"

"I'll see. We'll discuss this more later." Phil remarked then left.

Outside the cell, he gave Dugger his orders as they headed back upstairs. "Start searching every available source for this man called The Viper. Cross reference that name with desert training camps and The Consortium. Find out what our friends at the Embassies in Kuwait City, Baghdad, Cairo and Dubai can tell us. He mentioned he thought this man was ex-military or possibly a Government Agent. Look into those angles as well."

"Got it, boss."

"We recovered a number of cell phones and devices at the scene. Have the techs run trace analyses on those, see if we can narrow down a number or contact information for this man called The Viper."

"If we get a hit, we can put a tap on it and track him."

"That's the plan."

Dugger nodded, "What about you?"

"I need to call Bannon. I'll join you guys in the conference room in a little bit. Have Agents Hendricks and Woods watch this guy and ensure they keep him and Sterns away from each other. No more contact between the two. Got all that?"

"Yeah, got it."

JQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQ

Race opened his eyes with a groan. The room was dark and Jade was fast asleep at his side. They'd explored each other two more times throughout the night and by the end Race was completely exhausted. Emerging from such a deep sleep, it took him a few seconds to realize it was his phone buzzing on the nightstand that had pulled him back into consciousness.

Grabbing the device, he saw it was Phil calling.

' _Fuck.'_ He'd completely forgotten to check in.

Phone in hand, he got out of bed, found his pants and pulled them on while at the same time answering the phone and moving into the sitting room.

"Race, where the hell have you been?" Phil demanded the moment Race answered. "This is the third time I've called you."

"Sorry, Corbin," Race stifled a yawn. "I forgot the phone was on vibrate. I was dead asleep, man."

Having been there himself, Corbin seemed to accept Race's answer. "What's your status? Did you make contact with Martucci?"

"I did. I met with him last night. I don't think he's suspicious, he seemed to buy the back story. I've been invited to his villa Friday night for a party."

"Good. What's your plan of action?"

"Find the opportune time to slip away during the party, locate his home office, and get whatever I can from there. I imagine whatever business he does with the traffickers and The Consortium is done from home and not from his office at the bank. Less suspicious that way."

"Agreed."

"What about you? You guys learn anything yet?"

"We found and arrested the two members of The Consortium that fled the scene in D.C. One's not talking, but the other gave us a bit of information on training camps and a guy that seems to be in charge, at least at some higher level of the organization. No real name, just a code name, The Viper. He put the hit out on me and my family."

"Any ideas as to his identity?" Race asked.

"We're still doing cross checks on the name and the training camps. We think he's either ex-military or ex-Government. Definitely American by what the hitman told us."

"You think this is the guy that has Jonny?"

"It sounds plausible, wouldn't you say?" Phil replied.

"Yeah, I think so. Anything else?"

"We found some drugs at the scene, but the lab is having difficulty identifying the mixture. I'm going to take a trip up to Maine to check in and ask Benton if he can take a shot at it."

"Wouldn't hurt." Race agreed with the plan.

"Based on the hitman's physical mannerisms, I think The Consortium uses whatever this drug is to control these kids and turn them into killers. We'll keep at it. I think I got through to the one kid. I'm hoping he'll remember more and keep talking."

"The Consortium obviously has a huge network. It's hard to believe we haven't heard of them before now." Race mused out loud. "But the thing that keeps nagging at me is what is their end game? What do they want? And why did they take Jonny? Do you think they even know who he is? I mean they have to. They killed the entire crew of that shipping vessel just to get to him."

"I wish we knew, Race." Phil answered, his tone supportive of his friend. "Keep your eyes and ears open for any hint of this guy they call The Viper. Maybe once you get what you want from Martucci's office, you'll have the opportunity to squeeze some information out of him once he knows he's done for."

"I'd love to squeeze the life out of that disgusting weasel."

"There's a lot of those types running around in The Consortium it seems." Phil threw in. "I'll call you from Maine, so make sure you answer your damn phone, Bannon."

Race chuckled. "Sure thing, Phil. Hey, you think if Jessie's there when you call I can talk to her for a few minutes on your phone since it's secure."

"I don't see a problem with that." Phil answered. "Good luck and remember to watch your ass, Bannon. These dirtbags are everywhere."

"Got it, brother." Race remarked then hung up.

Tossing the phone down, he ran his hands over his head.

"What was that all about?"

Looking up, he saw Jade standing in the doorway in nothing but his dress shirt. He smiled at the sight of her tussled hair and sleepy eyes. "Nothing, just Phil. I missed my earlier check in."

"Did you tell him why you missed the call?" Jade winked and teasingly bit the end of her finger while staring him down.

"He doesn't need those kinds of details." Race stood and went to her. Hand on her chin, he turned her eyes up to meet his. "That's just between you and me, babe."

"I'm ready for my next payment." Jade breathed.

"And I'm ready to make good on that payment." Race responded and kissed her deeply and passionately on the lips.

JQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQ

"Estella, is everything alright?"

Estella looked up from her book; she hadn't heard Benton enter the living room.

She fumbled through her response. "Oh, Benton, yes I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

Taking a seat across from her, Benton gave Estella a compassionate smile. "I asked if everything is alright. You seem…distracted."

Sighing, Estella closed the book and set it down on the coffee table. "I suppose I am, which doesn't really help you, Benton. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Estella. We are all in this ordeal together. If one of us is hurting, then all of us are hurting. I've noticed Jessie has gone back to working in the lighthouse by herself again."

"I tried to talk with her, but she just doesn't want to listen. It seems she'll only listen to Race at the moment."

"Jessie and Race are very close." Benton nodded. "She idolizes him. Jonny does too."

"He is a good man." Estella agreed. "Which makes it so much harder to get through to Jessie without him. She blames me for the divorce and thinks I'm not interested in helping find Jonny. Benton, I hope you do not think that is the case."

Benton moved to sit next to her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Benton replied, "Of course I don't think that, Estella. I know you are here to watch after me and I appreciate the sacrifices you've made to do that. We all want Jonny back safe and sound. I want my son back and Jessie wants her boyfriend back."

Estella nodded. Wiping away a solitary tear, she said, "That must have been difficult for you, Jonny and Jessie starting to date. I know it was for me, knowing my little girl was growing into a woman."

Benton laughed. "Was it ever! But Jessie's a great kid and I want to see both her and Jonny happy. And they are happy together. I want that happiness back."

"Race and I have had our difference of opinions on many issues, but one thing we've always agreed on was our desires to see our daughter happy. We both know Jessie is happy with Jonny. It pains me that they've been torn apart so viciously right when their love for each other was starting to blossom."

"You know something, Estella? Perhaps that is what you need to tell Jessie." Benton suggested. "She needs to hear that from you."

Estella paused. "I never thought of it that way, but you're right. You're absolutely right, Benton."

Wrapping her arms around him, Estella embraced her friend in a tight, loving hug. Out of everyone, Benton was probably suffering the most, yet he still was able to recognize her pain and help.

Benton's cell phone rang. Pulling back from Estella, he reached into his pocket. "It's Corbin."

"Put it on speaker." Estella suggested.

Benton nodded and answered the call. "Phil, I have you on speaker. Estella's with me. Any news?"

"Good evening, Doctor. Estella." Phil replied. "We've made some progress, but I need your help."

"What is it?" Benton asked.

"I'd like to come up and discuss it with you in person, Doctor. We haven't found Jonny yet, but we did manage to arrest the thugs that attacked me. We recovered a substance that my lab techs are having a hell of a time identifying. I think it's what The Consortium is using to drug these kids, but without proper identification I can't be sure. Can I bring you a sample so you can take a look?"

"Of course, Phil." Benton gave Estella a look. He didn't like the news that The Consortium was drugging its captives, but if the information would help Jonny, then Benton was all for it.

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll leave at once and call you when I arrive at the airstrip."

"Phil, any news from Race?" Estella asked into the phone.

"We can talk more when I arrive." Phil replied then hung up.

Estella frowned. "You know, that man needs to learn better interpersonal skills. I've known him for years and he can be so vague at times."

Benton chuckled. He agreed with Estella assessment. "Comes with the job I suppose, Estella. He'll be here in a couple hours and I have a few things to finish before he arrives."

"Benton, thank you." Estella said, patting the scientist's hand. "Really. Thank you."

"Of course." Benton smiled back.

"I'll go tell Jessie that Phil is on his way. She'll probably want to hear any updates he has too."

Benton agreed. "Undoubtedly."

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"Terry, what are you doing back?" Phil paused midstride in his office. He was getting ready to head to Maine to speak with Benton and was surprised by the appearance of his linguist in the doorway.

"I wanted to spend the last few days of my vacation back here." Roberts answered.

Corbin sat back down, Roberts took a seat across from his superior. Terry looked better, probably from the combination of relaxation and the fresh country air of his parents' ranch in Montana. Terry Roberts was born and raised a cowboy, so the fact that he had excelled in foreign languages at Montana State University and became one of the best linguists to work for Intelligence One was always something that perplexed his friends and co-workers.

"How are your parents?" Phil asked kindly.

"They're fine, still working the ranch. Heather is good too. She and her husband just found out they're expecting."

"That's good to hear, Terry." Phil remarked truthfully.

"I heard about what's been going on here, Sir. I heard about what happened to you. I'm sorry. I should have been here to provide support."

Phil nodded a quick thanks. "There's nothing you could have done, my friend. They're fine, that's all that matters. But it would seem I need to speak to Agent Altine about her talks with you. You were supposed to be on vacation."

"Come on, man." Roberts started, but stopped when he saw Phil's grin.

"Enjoy the rest of your vacation time before you head out to Moscow. I'm sure if you ask nicely, Matt and Pete will cover down for Karla so she can spend some time with you before you depart."

"Thanks, Sir."

Phil stood. "I'm heading to Maine to update Doctor Quest and go over a few things. I probably won't be back until late this evening. Once your vacation time is up, we'll go over the mission set for the Moscow tasking."

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Seated at the Questworld workstation, Jessie attempted to lay out her plan. She'd hooked back into the I-1 databanks, but so far she hadn't learned much from Corbin's computer. She was starting to think that it wasn't the best course of action she could have taken.

"They have to be communicating somehow." Jessie mumbled to herself. She just couldn't believe her dad was out there and completely cut off from the I-1 support back in the states.

Glancing around, her eyes fell on her cell phone. She could really use some words of encouragement at the moment. Not used to doing these covert planning sessions alone, she definitely needed a sounding board. Typing in her passcode, she was about to call Hadji when realization hit her in the face like a brick.

"Jeez, Bannon. Are you that dense?" She mocked herself. If her dad and Phil weren't communicating by email, they were probably doing it the old fashion way, by telephone. She could hack a phone easy enough, but she needed to find the numbers first. Typing away, her call to Hadji forgotten, Jessie dug in to her search.

The rattling of the outer door handled jarred Jessie from her concentration. "Shit." She muttered. Slamming the laptop shut, she unplugged the network cable and stashed the computer under the seat and out of sight for the time being.

The banging on the door caused her to quicken her step. "Jessie, why is this door locked?"

It was her mother.

Groaning with annoyance, she hurried to the door and unlocked it. "Sorry, mom, I must have accidently locked it when I came in."

"Jessie," Estella started, but remembering Benton's advice she softened her tone. "Jess, I thought you'd want to know that Agent Corbin is on his way up here to speak with Benton."

"News on Jonny?" Jessie was hopeful. "Or dad?"

"He said something about needing Benton's help on some lab tests. Other than that, he said he'd fill us in on the rest once he arrived. He should be here in a of couple hours."

Jessie nodded. "Let me finish up in here and I'll be right in."

"Do you need some help, honey?"

Jessie shook her head. "No, mom, I've got this. It won't take me long."

Sighing, Estella acquiesced. "Alright, just don't take too long. You know you can get caught up in things out here and lose track of time."

"IRIS will announce his arrival." Jessie stated, "But I'll be in well before that. I promise, mom."

"Okay, dear. I'll be in the kitchen." Estella told her then turned, giving one of the roaming Agents a nod and a smile on her way back down the path.

Shutting the door, Jessie leaned against it and exhaled. "That was too close."

Moving quickly, she hid the laptop and powered down the systems. Grabbing her phone, she stuffed in her pocket. She needed to talk to Corbin. She had his personal cell number, but that wouldn't do, she needed the number for his secure phone.

"Now I just need to figure out how to covertly extract intel out of an Intelligence Operative." Jessie laughed to herself; it wasn't going to be easy.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Author's Notes: Thank you again to everyone that is reading and enjoying. I'm having a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you are having as much fun reading it.**

 **Goddess Evie: As always, you are the best. Thank you for your help with that little addition to Jonny's scene, it made it so much better. Things are starting to come together, let's just hope it is enough for save Jonny!**

 **ForeverWells: My, amiguita! You've helped me so much…with everything. Thanks for being an awesome friend! I can only hope that this story is meeting your expectations! I'm sure you'll enough this chapter, one scene in particular…and it is thanks to you!**

 **Tj: So glad you've found some time to read this continuing tale. I hope you continue on to this point. Our beloved Jonny needs us! LOL**

 **Geist: Thanks for the PM. I understand busy…believe me I do. Just enjoy and let me know what you think when you can!**

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"You arrived rather quickly." Benton opened the door to greet The I-1 Director.

"I told my pilot I was in a hurry." Phil answered, crossing the threshold. Hanging his overcoat on the hook by the entrance, he followed Benton into the house. "How are the Agents we've assigned, Doctor?"

Benton gave Phil an approving look. "They've been cordial and courteous. I don't know how many times I've asked them if they needed anything, but they keep insisting they are fine."

Phil nodded. "They don't want to impose, that's all. They're good people; professionals."

"Yes," Benton answered. Leading the way, he headed towards his home laboratory. Pushing through the doors, Benton grabbed his lab coat and shrugged into it. Phil handed the scientist the drug sample and took a seat next to the Doctor's work table.

"So, your techs haven't had any luck with this?" Benton inquired. Dumping the powdery substance into a dish, he went to work collecting a small portion of the off-white mixture.

"Not much. They sent word that they've isolated one of the substances." Phil retrieved his phone from his pocket and opened the corresponding email. "Procaine."

Benton paused. "Procaine? Really? That's odd."

"How so, Doctor?"

"Well, you know procaine is also known as Novocain and used primarily in dental procedures. It dulls nerve endings and it's been shown that prolonged use can damage brain cells and cause misfires in synapses responses. It's not generally seen as a street drug."

"But cocaine is." Corbin suggested.

"True, they are related." Benton stroked his chin then placed the sample onto a slide. Placing his eyes to the microscope, he studied the mixture with curiosity.

"Would mixing procaine with another substance create something that can be used for mind control?" Corbin asked.

"It's possible, but without knowing what else is in this, I wouldn't want to speculate."

Phil nodded. Benton returned to studying the slide. Minutes later, the lab doors opened and Estella and Jessie made their way towards the two men. Phil kept his features neutral at the sight of the two redheads.

"What news do you have?" Estella asked immediately, coming to stand in front of Corbin.

Phil shrugged. Estella noted that he still looked tired. "I spoke with Race earlier and everything is going according to our plan."

"And what is the plan?" Estella pushed.

"I can't divulge the details at this time." Phil answered.

' _So cryptic.'_ Estella wanted to throttle the man. But instead she stated, "You're amongst friends, Phil."

Corbin smirked ever so slightly at Estella's statement. She caught it and gathered that he in fact meant for her to do so. He remained silent.

Benton interrupted at that moment. Estella bristled when Phil turned away from her to listen to Benton's statement. "I'm going to have to run some tests. We know that at least one of the substances is procaine, but I cannot tell what the others are just from a visual examination. Is this the only sample you brought?"

"I have two more." Phil answered. Reaching into his pocket, he took out a small evidence bag that contained the last two samples and handed them over.

"Anything else you can think of that might be useful?" Benton questioned.

Thinking back to the interview with Hayes, Phil nodded. "I don't know if it is related, but when I was interviewing one of the suspects we gave him a bottle of water. He immediately shook the bottle like you would if you were adding something to it, like Gatorade powder. He didn't even realize he was doing it, like he'd performed the act so many times it had become second nature."

"Soluble in water, that could be of value."

"How long will your tests take?" Phil asked.

"I don't know," Benton replied honestly. "At this point it's too early to say. I have some tests in mind to use as a starting point. Results dependent, I might have to approach this from a different angle."

Phil stood. "I'll head back to D.C. then. I'll inform my lab techs to send their data straight to you."

"And I'll do the same." Benton answered.

"Thank you, Doctor." Phil extended his hand.

Shaking with the Director, Benton showed a little smile. "Thank you for bringing this to me, Phil. If knowing what these packets contain helps us recover Jonny faster then I'm all for the extra work."

With a nod, Phil said. "I can show myself out."

Benton was already back to studying the sample.

"We'll walk with you." Estella said. Phil nodded, trying to be kind.

At the front door, Phil grabbed his coat. Jessie remarked. "Can I speak with you for a moment, Agent Corbin?"

"What is it, Jess?" Phil asked.

Jessie gave her mother a sideways glance. "Alone."

Estella reacted with a slight scowl, but the look Phil gave her said he had no idea what Jessie wanted either. Inhaling, Estella reminded herself to be calm and patient. Phil was Jessie's godfather and she looked at him in the same light as her father in many ways. So Estella nodded and said, "It's getting late. I think I'll turn in."

"Goodnight, mom." Jessie replied, thankful her mother didn't put up a fight.

"Goodnight, Estella." Phil was cordial with her.

"Goodnight, Phil." Estella looked to her daughter. "I'll see you in the morning, sweetheart."

Jessie waited till her mother was completely gone and not coming back. Looking at Phil she said, "We can talk in my dad's office."

"What's this about, Jess?" Phil asked. He put his coat back on the hook and followed the redhead. She was so like her parents; determined, stoic, brave, yet he could tell she was still in pain. He wondered if she knew he'd caught her infiltrating his system, but figured she probably didn't. If she did, she'd be afraid of being arrested or at the very least scolded for her actions, not wanting to speak privately with him.

Stepping into the office, Jessie closed the door behind them. It had been some time since Corbin had been in Race's workspace. Race Bannon was a lot of things and one of those things was an extremely detailed individual. Everything had its place. His pens were in a line on his desk to the right of his keyboard. A perfectly placed notebook next to those. His monitors were arranged in a way that allowed him to work while also keeping an eye on the door and the windows, yet prevented anyone from observing what he was working on. The wall behind his desk was adorned with all of his awards and decorations he'd received throughout his years of service to his country and Quest Enterprises. A bookshelf to the right had a number of non-fiction books on leadership as well as historical novels pertaining to military service throughout the years.

Corbin's eyes fell on the picture Jessie had shown him the other night. He actually had the same photo, but it was on display in his home office, not at I-1. Phil chose to remember and honor his friends in private. Shaking his head, he looked away. He didn't want to remember that battle, at least not at this moment.

"You know your mom is going to question you about this, Jessie." Phil finally said when he caught her studying him.

"My mom and I are having issues at the moment. All I care about is finding Jonny. The rest will work itself out later."

"Bringing Jonny home is my number one priority, Jessie. You know that." Phil said.

"I know. I want to help."

"You are helping." Phil replied.

Jessie shook her head. "No I'm not. Staying here, watching over Doctor Quest and my mom, that's not helping."

"What do you want me to say?" Phil shrugged.

"I want to know where my dad is and what he's doing."

"Jessie, you've been making a lot of demands of me lately." Phil answered, unable to hide his sudden onset of annoyance. "You know I can't tell you those things."

"Can't or won't?" Jessie shot back.

"Pick one." Corbin answered, perhaps a tad too harshly.

Sighing, Jessie sat down on the couch along the far wall. "I know what's going on here. I know you are doing this to protect me. To help me recover. But this is not what is going to help me. The only thing that will help me recover is being with Jonny. You've asked Doctor Quest for help and he'll be tied up with that. My mom is hovering over me, suffocating me."

"Is that such a bad thing, Jessie?" Phil asked, changing to a more understanding tone of voice.

Jessie raised an eyebrow in his direction. "You know my mother."

To her surprise, Phil smiled and laughed a little. "Good point."

"Please, let me go back with you. Let me be a part of your team."

Jessie saw a look in the man's eyes. A look that indicated he might actually be considering it. She went quiet and waited. But to her dismay, he shook his head, "I can't do that, Jessie."

"You promised my dad you'd look after me."

Nodding, Phil replied, "I did. That doesn't mean make you an Agent."

Jessie huffed. He wasn't going to budge, not right now. She wanted to counter him, but she could tell he was about done listening. She went to her plan B. "I know you won't tell me where my dad is and as much as I wish you would, I understand why. But can I at least talk to him? Maybe you can call him and I can speak to him for a few minutes. I'm so wound up and maybe hearing his voice will help me relax and start thinking straight."

Phil appeared to buy it. "I did tell him I would call from here. And he did ask to speak with you at that time." Pulling out his phone, he went through the motions of unlocking it and scrolling through his contacts. Jessie moved to his side. She eyed the device in his hand, looking innocent, not like she was actually trying to read the numbers.

Reaching the correct contact, Phil placed the call, keeping it on speaker phone. The phone rang and continued to ring. Eventually, when there was no answer, Phil hung up. Jessie caught a brief glimpse of the contact numbers, both his and her dad's.

"I told him to answer his damn phone." Phil grumbled. "He must be indisposed."

"You think he's alright?" She was suddenly worried.

"I'm sure he's fine. If there was trouble, he'd have contacted me through other means if his phone was compromised." Phil smirked a little, knowing that Jessie had read his emails.

Putting the phone away, Phil said, "I should really get going now, Jessie. I appreciate that you want to help. I know how difficult it is to be separated from those you love, but you still have your mom and Benton here with you. And Hadji should be coming back soon, right?"

Jessie nodded. "He's not sure when, maybe late next week."

"You'll be fine. You're tough, you're a Bannon. I know it's not easy for you to sit around, feeling useless, but you're not useless, Jessie. You're keeping Benton and your mom sane at the moment. Your dad will bring Jonny back. I know he will."

Jessie nodded solemnly.

"Just don't go doing anything rash, alright?" Phil smiled. "If you find yourself thinking about running off, trying to find Jonny on your own, stop. Then call me. We fought hard to get you back and are still fighting just as hard to get Jonny. We can't have you disappearing again."

"I know. I'm sorry. Like I said, I just want to help."

Phil placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I know you do, Jessie. And so does your dad and I bet even Jonny knows too."

Jessie threw her arms around his torso, embracing the Director. He hugged her back as she suddenly started crying against his chest.

Her sudden outburst had come from nowhere.

Pulling back, Phil spoke softly, "Jessie?"

Wiping away the unexpected tears, she frowned. "Sorry, I don't know what just came over me."

"It's okay. We all have a lot of emotion built up."

Jessie knew her godfather was a caring and trustworthy individual, "I'm scared, Agent Corbin. I'm scared for my dad."

"Your dad is one of the best in this profession, Jessie. He'll be alright."

"But he's all alone out there."

"He's worked solo missions before. And he's not alone, he is still in communication with myself and my team."

Jessie nodded. He looked away from the girl, back towards the pictures on the wall. A wave of guilt washed through the redhead for having read his report, even after he told her to let it go. Eventually, he looked back at her and said, "I know it would be foolish for me to tell you not to worry, either about your dad or Jonny. So I'll just say, you need to stay positive. Trust in your dad and in me. We'll find Jonny and we'll bring him home. No matter what."

"Do you really think he's being brainwashed?"

"I have no concrete evidence, but if I had to make a guess I'd say yes. I just don't know why."

Jessie shook her head, her brow furrowed. "So it's safe to say that when he is found, he'll be different."

Corbin simply said, "Yes."

"That'll make his return to normalcy difficult to say the least."

"He'll need someone at his side, Jess." Phil offered. "He'll need someone that's willing to share his pain and suffering. You've already went through a horrible experience, Jessie, but his continued. You've shared suffering together, but his went further. Just don't give up on him."

"I'd never do that." Jessie's reply was forceful and determined.

"Remember that." Phil stated. "I've seen devoted couples torn apart far too many times throughout my career. It's not going to be easy, Jess, but I have faith in you and Jonny."

Jessie smiled, then attempted to stifle a yawn; it didn't work. "I should let you get back. It is getting late and you still have to get back to D.C."

"I'll be fine. Jessie, just hang in there. Everything will work out in the end, you'll see."

Nodding, Jessie agreed. "Thanks for taking a few minutes to listen to my emotional ramblings."

Chuckling, Phil remarked, "I live with three women. Trust me, I'm used to it."

Jessie laughed, it felt good. Phil was always good at making her laugh.

He gave her another quick hug, then said, "Get some rest. I'll show myself out for real this time. We'll talk more soon, I promise."

"Thanks, Agent Corbin."

"Don't mention it, kiddo." Phil replied. A moment later he was out of the office and gone.

Jessie was tired, but she had one more thing to do before she could go to bed. She'd have to wait till she was sure Corbin was gone, but she had his phone number now and she had to get it annotated before she forgot.

' _That wasn't that hard actually,'_ Jessie said to herself in her head. _'Maybe I do have what it takes to be an Agent.'_

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Guiding the high class sports car up the drive, Race whistled appreciatively as Martucci's villa came into view. Perfectly manicured gardens lined the driveway that led towards the stately Italian villa. Engine rumbling, Race felt the vibrations throughout his body as he pulled the car up to the front entrance of the manor.

"So this is what being on The Consortium's payroll gets you. This scumbag's got expensive tastes." He muttered.

Jade threw in. "Must be nice. Hell, even I can't afford a place like this."

Turning the engine off, he raised the gull wing door and stepped out. Moving towards the passenger side, Race opened the door and assisted Jade from the vehicle. Every eye, from Race's to the young valets' to the few other arriving guests that were making their way up the stairs towards the large open doors, stopped and stared at the strikingly beautiful woman that emerged from the German automobile.

Dressed in a sleek black and purple gown, Jade made a show of placing her hand in Race's and allowing her companion to guide her from the vehicle. The vision of epitome and grace with just a dash of glamorous intrigue, Jade's striking figure ensured every head was turned to gaze upon her as she exited the sports car. Her dark dress, with its silver clasp, complimented Jade's porcelain skin, brilliant green eyes, and dark, close cropped hair style. A small black handbag and silver heels completed her look and while most of the men currently taking in the vision of the confident woman had only one thing on their minds, Race knew never to think of Jade in such one dimensional terms. The vivacious woman carried a Walther PPK .380 stashed in her handbag.

Jade wasn't the only one that drew the eyes of the opposite sex. Plenty of women turned their heads to fawn over Race Bannon. The personification of male sex appeal, Race wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. Fastening a jacket button, he shot a gaggle of nearby women one of his trademark smiles, practically causing the women to keel over and faint.

"Don't get too playful, handsome." Jade remarked when she saw the women's reaction. "Remember you're mine tonight."

"Only until I hand you off to our host so I can do what we came here to do." Race lowered his voice as he commented.

Rolling her eyes, Jade grumbled. "Ugh. You owe me so much for this."

Smiling, Race gave her a peck on the cheek which drew the ire of the observant women. Jade grinned at their disdain for her. Race wrapped an arm around her waist the moment she was clear of the vehicle's door and handed the key to the restless young valet that stuttered as he came up to Race's side. Whether he was eager to drive the car or wanting to get another glimpse of Race's gorgeous girlfriend, Race couldn't be sure; he figured it was more than likely a bit of both.

Race took in his surroundings. The villa was massive, constructed during the Renaissance age when grandiose architecture and marble were the signs of wealth and power. But Race wasn't concerned with the building itself. His eyes studied those that lingered about the villa and its grounds. Men in black suits and ties walked the grounds, attempting to appear inconspicuous, but to a trained eye like Race's they stuck out like sore thumbs. If their posture and mannerisms weren't dead giveaways that they were security, their earpieces and bulges beneath their suit jackets caused by their firearms were. Race counted at least half a dozen and surmised there would be more inside the home.

The other guests had turned their attentions back to their own concerns, but Race felt the tension in the air. Beneath his own jacket, his concealed handgun was tucked in just the right spot where it wouldn't be spotted, but well within reach should he need to get to it in a moment's notice.

Crossing the threshold, the couple was greeted by bright lights and classical music. Martucci's over the top flamboyance extended to his home; the abundance of artwork meant to impress, the elegantly dressed wait staff that approached Race and offered he and Jade glasses of champagne and hors d'oeuvres.

"Ah, Signor Blackburn!"

Race turned. Approaching from the gilded staircase was Basilio Martucci. The Italian was also dressed in an expensive tuxedo, but his portly frame and beady face gave him the appearance of a well dressed troll versus a debonair man of action like Race.

Smiling, Race extended his hand, shaking with their host as Martucci bowed slightly. "I am so honored that you made it."

"Of course. Thank you for the invite. You have a magnificent home. Definitely a place I could see myself enjoying retirement at."

"Grazie, Signor." Martucci mewed. His voice was like nails and Race forced himself not to visibly cringe.

Martucci's attentions then fell upon Jade. His eyes lit up at the sight of Race's stunning date. "Signorina Jade. Such a pleasure." He kissed her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Signor." Jade was nothing, if not one fine actress.

A smile that bespoke of ill intentions crossed the Italian's face. "Please, enjoy yourselves tonight. Signor Blackburn, I would like for you to view my collections later. Once all my guests have arrived I will find you again. Say, in the ballroom within thirty minutes?"

"I'll be there, Signor."

"Excellent. Now, please, excuse me." Again Martucci bowed, then scuttled off to greet the next couple that walked through the doors.

"I need a stiff drink." Race joked.

"That makes two of us, handsome." Jade nodded.

Arm in arm, the couple made their way into the grand ballroom.

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Jonny was seated next to Temple on the private jet. They had departed Kiev, but not before Temple had taken Jonny out for another night on the town. This time however, Temple hadn't pressured Jonny into doing anything he didn't want and when Greg had found his way into the bed of another prostitute, Jonny hung back, spending his evening getting drunk and high and contemplating the strange dreams and uncomfortable feelings that were plaguing him. While Temple was a lot of things and Jonny trusted him, he knew that he couldn't bring his concerns to Greg; the ex-Agent just didn't care about those types of things. Kreed was off doing his own thing and until he met someone else within The Consortium, Jonny was forced to endure the suffering alone. So instead of facing the issues, he decided it was best that he forget them altogether. The drugs had helped.

"I want to know more about The Consortium." Jonny stated.

"What do you want to know?" Temple muttered. His eyes were closed. Leaned back in his chair, hands in his lap, Temple was attempting to catch up on some sleep after his all night escapades at the brothel.

"Who's behind it? What is its goals?" Jonny inquired. "You said before that I know the board members, so who are they?"

"You do know them and you'll meet them in due time."

"This is bullshit, Greg." Jonny snapped.

Sitting up, Temple eyed the hotheaded youth with an irritated look. "Watch it, Hotshot."

"No, Greg," Jonny continued. "I won't 'watch it'. You keep telling me I'm doing great and I'm a full member of The Consortium, but you don't tell me shit. You keep me in the dark because it suits _your_ goals. What are you afraid of, Temple? You think I'm going to run off and rat you out? That's ludicrous and you fucking know it."

"Jonny, I tell you what you need to be told. Nothing more."

"Well, I need to know more, Greg. I'm not going to take off. I'm with you through and through. You know this. You showed me the truth about everything. And believe it or not, I'm actually really enjoying what we do. It's like I'm finally fucking alive, man."

Temple smiled, listening to Quest's proclamation.

"All I'm asking is that you tell me something."

Nodding slowly, Temple was taken by Jonny's words. Throwing caution to the wind, he responded, "The Consortium is a conglomeration of different...powers if you will. Like Kreed told you when you first arrived, we were scattered, all trying to achieve our own goals separately and always being defeated. There was three of us at first that came together, forming The Consortium. Then once others saw what we were able to achieve as one, they started to come to us."

"What were you able to achieve?"

"Synchronicity. We stopped fighting each other and fought against our common enemies. Enemies like your father and Intelligence One. You see, Jonny, this isn't all just about world domination or attaining wealth beyond your wildest dreams. I mean for some it's that, but not for all of us. Some of us don't give a damn about that, we just want to make those responsible for destroying our lives pay for what they did."

"You blame Race for what happened to you?"

Temple scowled. He'd never admit that Race could get the better of him. "Race didn't do anything to me, Hotshot. I just cannot stand his arrogant, pompous ass. He did wrong you, however. He's also wronged other members of the board. One in particular. A man named Argus Grimm."

"Who?"

"A former colleague of Bannon's. He was a part of Intelligence One and served on a number of missions with Race and Corbin."

"What happened to him?"

Temple smirked. "You already know some of it."

"Why do you have to be so damn cryptic, Greg?" Jonny huffed angrily.

Temple laughed. "Look, I don't want to spoil anything for you. I'll let Grimm fill you in on why he wants to destroy I-1. After we finish this job in Moscow, I'll take you to meet the board. Fair enough?"

Rubbing his chin, Jonny finally nodded. "Sure. So is that Van Brandt character a member of the board?"

Shaking his head, Temple explained. "No. He's just an associate. He's done research for The Consortium in the past."

"What was in that vial that we delivered to him?"

"Just wait and see, Hotshot. Van Brandt is a self-righteous douchebag, but he's one the world's most talented biochemists. Soon enough you'll see what he's capable of and once that happens, the entire world will know and fear The Consortium."

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"I've always wanted to try this place. I love Persian cuisine." Karla beamed.

Roberts smiled warmly at his date. He was happy to be back in D.C. to spend some time with his new girlfriend, but he wasn't looking forward to leaving again so soon, even if it was for an official mission.

"I've heard good things about the food here and I overheard you talking about wanting to try it out." Terry answered.

Karla returned his smile, but it was quickly replaced by a slight pout. "I wish you didn't have to leave so soon. You just got back."

With a sigh, Terry nodded. "Same here, Karla. But they need me at this meeting. I shouldn't be gone too long."

"You'd think you were the only linguist in I-1 at times." Karla huffed sadly.

"Not the only one, just the best one." Terry grinned.

Karla laughed. "You've been hanging out with Race too much! His cockiness is starting to rub off on you."

"No one can ever be as cocky as Race Bannon." Roberts replied. "But the man has earned it. If anyone can find Jonny and bring down The Consortium, it's Race."

"Tell me more about how a multi-lingual cowboy from Montana came to work at Intelligence One."

"It's not that exciting." Terry flushed.

"Let me be the judge of that." Karla scolded playfully.

Terry blushed. "I was actually recruited during college. My parents didn't have a lot of money to spare, so paying for school was proving to be quite difficult. During my junior year I signed up for one of those personality tests the psychology students conduct as part of their curriculum."

"Interesting." Karla mused, listening intently to his story.

"Well, unbeknownst to me," Terry continued. "The results found their way into the hands of Intelligence One. I had no idea. Like most people I had never heard of the Agency until I was back home at the ranch the following summer and two Agents showed up out of the blue. They offered to not only pay off my current and future loan debt, but guaranteed me a job when I graduated. How could I refuse an offer like that?"

"And I-1 did all that for you?"

Terry nodded. "Yes. At first I was just an interpreter, but I have a knack for language. I continued to study, learn, and take aptitude tests for a number of different languages and dialects. My efforts paid off as I caught the attention of the right people. I was quickly promoted and brought 'upstairs' as they say. Once Corbin took charge, I pretty much became his interpreter and driver."

"How many languages do you speak?" Karla inquired.

Again, Terry blushed. "A lot. You probably don't know this, but most field Agents are required to have at least one basic language skill other than their native tongue. Bannon, like you, speaks Spanish; Dugger speaks French; Velk is versed in German and Czech and Corbin can read, write, and speak fluent Slovak."

"Are you serious?"

Terry nodded. "They probably didn't test you because you're already fluent in Spanish. This is an amazing organization to work for and you'll learn a lot about your colleagues over the years. I-1 is small, so we are pretty tight-knit. The missions can get harrowing at times, just like this current investigation."

"For my first real field assignment, this has been quite the experience. I mean working alongside all of you to help the infamous Doctor Quest, I couldn't ask for a better assignment."

Terry's features suddenly clouded. Karla noticed immediately, "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all." He tried to sound reassuring. "I just went back to Pennsylvania for a moment. The club…that gas station. It feels so surreal, so monumental. Karla, I've never killed anyone before."

Reaching out, she took his hands in hers. "Terry, I can't imagine what it must have been like to experience something like that."

"These things seem so natural for Race and the other guys." Looking into her eyes, he confessed. "That's why I got so bent out of shape during the sting at the biker bar. I was overcome with the sudden realization that what we do is extremely dangerous. I know you can handle yourself, you've proven that, and it was wrong of me to step in. Corbin was right, I could have gotten everyone killed."

"Terbear," She whispered, "Don't do this to yourself. Sure at the time I was upset, but I see now why you did it and you can't imagine how it makes me feel knowing you wanted to protect me."

"Really?" Roberts asked.

Her smile was genuine. "Yes. I have a good looking, intelligent, kind, and caring man that acts on instinct to protect me. Why would I want anything else?"

Terry chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, obviously embarrassed. "A shame I have to leave soon."

Karla nodded. The waiter came over and Terry paid for the meal. Once settled they left. Outside, on the sidewalk, he said, "I still need to go home and pack. I can drop you off at your place on the way."

"Actually," Karla snaked her arm through his and leaned close. "I'm not really tired and I don't have to be back at the office till the morning. Why don't I come help you pack?" She gave him a playful wink.

All thoughts of packing immediately vacated Roberts' head. Smiling at her, Terry moved closer, pulled her into him and kissed her on the lips. "Packing can wait."

Kissing him back, she replied, "Yes. It can."

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"Here he comes." Race grumbled under his breath.

Jade eyed the Italian banker over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of her cocktail. "Again, Race," She rolled her eyes.

"I know, I owe you big time. Hell, maybe I can even get Corbin to fork over some of that money he uses to pay his informants as a sign of I-1's gratitude to the illustrious Jezebel Jade."

Snorting a little laugh, Jade commented, "Wouldn't that be something. Yet, you have no idea how shocked I was when he not only called me in need of my services back during that incident with your ex, but that he actually paid me too!"

"Wait? What?" Race asked with a hint of surprise.

Jade shot him a sly look, amused by his shock. Race Bannon knew a lot, but he didn't always know everything.

Opening his mouth to question her further, Race couldn't get a word out as Martucci had reached his side. "Signor Blackburn, there you are! Have you been enjoying yourselves this evening?"

"Quite so." Race answered. "But I'd really like to see your collection."

"Si, Si, of course. Grab your refreshments. This way." Martucci stammered, gesturing for Race and Jade to follow.

The sounds of the party died away. Following Basilio Martucci through the corridors of his grand home, Race kept his eyes open for any sign of Martucci's home office. Yet, most of the doors they passed were closed and Race assumed the office was more than likely located upstairs near or adjacent to Martucci's bedroom. He'd have to find a way to make it upstairs later in the evening.

Passing through a heavily reinforced door, Race showed his approval with a long whistle. "Wow."

The garage was huge, larger than Race's first apartment he'd lived in when he first joined I-1; much larger. The center of the facility was clear, creating a sort of walking path down the length of the garage. One each side however was a row of rare and classic automobiles. Race nodded, genuinely impressed with Martucci's sizable and priceless collection.

Seeing the grin on his American guest's face, Martucci clasped his hands behind his back as he led the couple forward. "You approve, Signor Blackburn?"

"Do I?" Race laughed a little. "Some of these vehicles I've only ever seen in photographs."

"Here is your 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1, Signor." Martucci patted a loving hand on the hood of the American muscle machine. The story Race told about stealing the car was actually true, he'd only embellished at the end, of course joining the Navy and not becoming a millionaire real estate mogul.

"Just like I remember her." Race smiled. Nodding his head, he indicated the rare Corvette. "You may like my Gumpert, but that baby there is a treasure indeed, Signor Martucci. May I ask how you acquired it?"

"Ah, let's just say you are not the only associate of mine that has an interest in obtaining rare and gorgeous beauties."

Race felt like Martucci was testing him with his last statement. If the Italian did his homework, and Race had to assume that he had, he'd know that William Blackburn had run-ins with the law in regards to his tastes in young women, very young women.

"Sounds like someone I'd like to do business with as well." Race spoke, testing the waters.

"Perhaps I can make arrangements for you, my friend." Martucci mused.

Race continued to examine Martucci's collection. The man possessed cars from all over the world; ranging from classics to modern day marvels of technology. He also had a small assortment of motorcycles, to include a replica of the infamous TT Triumph 650 used by Steve McQueen during the classic scene from _The Great Escape_.

Jade watched the exchange with interest. Race was smooth, his knowledge impeccable and while Jade could tell Bannon detested doing business with scum like Martucci, he would play his role to the letter and get the information he sought.

Martucci eyed his guest with a degree of both admiration and skepticism. The doors the group previously entered through opened. A guard wearing a dark suit entered, signaling his employer with only a nod. Martucci returned the nod, then addressed his companions. "Please excuse me for a moment. We should return to the party, but perhaps later we can continue this discussion, Signor Blackburn."

"Of course." Race nodded. He kept both Martucci and the guard in his sights, but acted as if the intrusion was of no concern to him.

Martucci smiled, motioning for them to follow. Race and Jade obliged.

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Jessie entered the phone numbers into Questworld's databanks. Synching the information up with the I-1 laptop, she waited patiently as the system ran its checks. Within minutes she got a hit on Corbin's phone. From its location on the map display, she concluded that he was still in transit back to D.C.

Nothing happened with the data for her father's phone. Frowning, Jessie thought back to why her dad didn't answer Corbin's earlier call. Phil had sounded confident that Race was fine, but the fact that she couldn't pick up a signal told her that his phone was currently switched off and she had to wonder why.

"I don't like this at all." Jessie muttered. Ensuring the trace was active, she turned her attention to Corbin's emails, scanning through the items one by one, looking for any information on Jonny.

She didn't find anything pertaining to Jonny, but one particular email did catch her eye. Opening it, she read through the message. It was an alert. Not liking what she saw, she frowned and read it again.

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Back in the hall, Race watched Martucci laugh and joke with his guests. He needed to break away and now was as good a time as any.

"Keep Martucci occupied." He whispered in Jade's ear. "We'll meet back here as soon as I'm done."

Jade smiled, "Watch your ass, handsome."

"Always." Race gave her a peck on the cheek before slipping away, blending into the crowd.

Jade watched him disappear then made her way towards Martucci. With a sigh she reminded herself she was doing this for Jonny.

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After arriving back at I-1 headquarters, Phil checked in at the GOC for an update. His position dictated that he remain cognizant of all the other active operations his Agents were involved in throughout the world. He couldn't focus his attention solely on finding Jonny.

"Sir, you might find this interesting." Dugger came up to his superior and handed the man a file.

Scanning the packet, Phil nodded. "I received an email about this earlier."

"Currently the U.N. has the lead."

"That makes sense. It's too early to tell if this is an outbreak or a terrorist attack." Phil stated.

"No group has claimed responsibility, so the U.N. is treating it as an outbreak and has dispatched a team from the world health organization to assess the situation."

Phil read the initial report. Something caught his eye. Frowning, he scanned the document more thoroughly.

"Something wrong, boss?" Dugger caught the sudden change in Phil's body language.

Shaking his head, Phil replied, "No. Well, I don't know. I think I'm just tired."

"You should get some rest."

Phil nodded and handed the file back to the Cajun. "I'll be upstairs. Keep an eye on this and if anything changes let me know ASAP. I also want a copy of the initial report from the WHO when it comes in."

"Yes, Sir." Dugger nodded.

Leaving the GOC, Phil made his way upstairs to his temporary living arrangements. He was definitely tired, but his mind was going a million different directions. Now, on top of searching for Jonny, he had a potential biological outbreak to worry about. The problem was, something about the report was nagging at the corners of his mind, but he couldn't focus long enough to figure out what it was.

But one thing he did know, whatever it was, it wasn't good.

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Ensuring he wasn't being watched, Race quickly made his way up the grand staircase. The sights and sounds receded to nothing more than a low rumble once he reached the top of the steps, making his way down an empty hallway. He'd have to be cautious; Martucci probably had guards posted upstairs as well.

Footfalls masked by the plush carpet runners, Race made it to the end of the hall unhindered. A quick glance around the corner showed another empty hallway, a closed door at the end. Picking up his pace, Race hurried towards the wooden door and tested the handle. It was locked.

"Of course." He grumbled. Retrieving his lock picking tools, he made quick work of the flimsy lock and was rewarded with an audible click. Not wasting any more time, he opened the door, vanished inside, and then closed it behind him while re-engaging the lock.

He was in Martucci's bedroom. The room was large, the king size bed the focal point. A gaudy hearth took up a large portion of one of the walls and another door was towards the back of the room on the opposite wall. Race hurried to it and found it led to the bathroom on-suite. An examination found it was empty.

Scanning the bedroom once again, Race made his way towards a polished oak desk near the fireplace. Sitting atop the desk was Martucci's workstation. Race frowned, if the man used a laptop Race would have just taken the entire system, but the old style desktop Martucci utilized caused Race to readjust his plan. Powering the system on, Race tapped his foot, as he glanced between the door and the monitor. He needed to get in and out before anyone took notice that he was absent from the party. He knew Jade would keep Martucci occupied, but that didn't account for the guards or the other guests.

Moments later the system came to life. Of course Martucci had his workstation password protected, but Race had anticipated the possible hurdle. Pulling a small thumb drive from his pocket, he inserted it into the computer and let it do its work. As the light on the device blinked, he watched the monitor intently. The thumb drive contained a prototype software program, developed by I-1 engineers, that could quickly override password protected systems for times when Agents found themselves in situations just like the one Race was currently in. So far the program had seen limited success, the more complicated the protection and encryption on a system, the harder it was for the software to crack the code.

Race smiled when the program completed its run, Martucci had protected his system, but not to the extent that the software couldn't hack through the simple codes; Race was in.

Withdrawing the thumb drive, Race placed it on the desk, then grabbed the second one he'd been carrying. Inserting it, he opened the box and started dumping files from Martucci's computer onto the drive. He didn't have time to look through each file, so he decided to take them all.

"Serves this scumbag right." Race laughed to himself as the files copied over to the drive.

Minutes later, Race had the information in hand and secured the drive once again. Putting it away, he took the first device, reinserted it, and ran the destruction virus software, erasing any evidence of his intrusion from the system's hard drive.

Once complete, Race turned the computer off, pocketed his devices and moved back towards the door. Ear pressed against the wood, he listened. When he heard nothing on the other side, he opened the door, re-engaged the lock and stepped back out in the hall.

He'd been gone no more than ten minutes.

Walking quickly, he made his way back down the hall and rounded the corner.

Right into the waiting arms of two guards.

"What are you doing up here?" One of the guard's questioned, his hand under his suit jacket.

"Hey," Race laughed. "Sorry, I got lost. I was looking for the bathroom."

"What are you doing up here?" He asked again, not buying Race's answer.

"Look, guys," Race took a step backwards. His hand went beneath his own tux, but the guards were on him before he could reach his own weapon.

The man who had spoken grabbed Race by the arm, preventing him from reaching further for his handgun. The thug's grip was like a vise and he twisted Race's arm in such a way that made the I-1 Agent stagger.

"What the hell?" Race quipped. "Is this how you treat your employer's guests?"

The second guard responded by pounding his oversized fist into the side of Race's head. Race dropped to the floor, dazed by the powerful attack.

The first man was on him before Race could recover. He reached behind Race's back and withdrew his hidden firearm. "What is this for?" The man snickered as his partner hit Race a second time.

Head spinning, Race attempted to recover, but the men held him firm. On his knees, Race sneered when the guard smiled, his companion locking Race's arms behind his back.

"Foolish Americans." The guard laughed. "Signor Martucci would like a word with you."

"Good. I have a few things I want to say to him as well." Race shot back in defiance.

The guard hefted Race's pistol. Holding it securely in his palm, he lashed out and struck Race in the temple. Race felt the crack against his skull a moment before his vision left him and his mind went blank, knocked out cold from the wicked strike.

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Jonny's consciousness wavered. Groaning in his sleep, he fought against the onslaught of the disturbing thoughts that infiltrated his dreams. He struggled to remember how his life once was, but the memories conflicted with what he was being told, causing Jonny to not only question reality but his own sanity all the same.

" _So what do you think of her?" Jonny asked his brother. The duo was in the lighthouse, working on the latest Questworld program together._

" _She is definitely Race's daughter." Hadji answered evenly._

" _Yeah, no doubt about that." Jonny laughed._

 _Jessie Bannon had been living with her father at the Quest mansion for a little over a month now. Jonny thought he knew his mentor and bodyguard fairly well, but in all the years he'd worked for Jonny's father, Race had never mentioned he had a daughter. Hell, Jonny didn't even know that Race had once been married!_

 _So far, Jessie had taken to her new life with her dad and the Quest men with little excitement, but as she grew more comfortable with her surroundings and her new family, her boldness was beginning to break through the walls she seemed to have erected upon her arrival._

 _Jonny had taken an instant liking to the volatile redhead, engaging in friendly competitions and playful bantering with the girl. She was smart, strong, and also quite pretty. At first, Jonny didn't know how he'd react to having a girl living with them, but he'd quickly gotten over his apprehensions and found Jessie was a welcome addition to the household._

" _She is a very interesting individual." Hadji stated, not looking up from his workstation. "Her time with her mother has molded her into a very strong and independent young woman it seems."_

" _Living in the jungles, moving from camp to camp, I can definitely see that. I thought we had an exciting life, Hadj."_

" _We do, Jonny. Her's is just a different type of excitement, that's all."_

 _The lighthouse door opened and the topic of the brothers' discussion entered. "What are you two doing in here?"_

" _Just going over a new program in Questworld." Jonny answered. He watched Jessie move around the room, examining the computer monitors and the Questworld VR chairs. "You finally up for giving it a shot?"_

" _I've never really been into computer games, Jonny." Jessie answered sheepishly._

" _This isn't like any computer game you've ever played." Jonny said encouragingly. "We can go in together. I'll show you around, help you get your footing."_

" _You really think I need your help?" Jessie remarked teasingly._

" _Just like a Bannon." Jonny laughed in response. "That sounds like a challenge."_

 _Jessie nodded. "You're damn right it's a challenge, Hotshot."_

" _Oh, now we're dishing out nick names?" Jonny grinned._

" _You may be overflowing with confidence and charm and you may have had more time with my dad these past years than I have, but I'm about to show you one thing." Jessie remarked coolly._

" _What's that, Ace?" Jonny pulled the name off the top of his head._

" _You may have learned from Race Bannon, but I'm his daughter. I have his blood."_

" _So what are you saying?" Jonny asked._

" _Let see what you think you've got, Jonny Quest."_

 _Hadji shook his head, listening to the competitive jabs his two best friends threw towards each other. "A match made in the heavens as they say." He mumbled to himself._

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 **To Be Continued…**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **Author's Notes: Hope everyone enjoys.**

 **ForeverWells: Yes, poor Jonny. His dream was real as we already discussed. And Jessie is determined to find the love of her life, Jonny. We are about to see just what she is capable of at this point.**

 **GoddessEvie: Finally, the moment has arrived.**

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"Tell me what you see." Temple stated.

Standing in the Red Square, Jonny shivered against the biting cold. He'd lost track of how long it had been since he was first kidnapped back in the states, but the change in the weather told him that fall was quickly approaching.

Jonny's eyes took in their surroundings. The Red Square contained the seat of Russia's political and military might, the Kremlin. Fortified behind a high wall, the famous building's spires reached high into the bleak, grey sky. Jonny had never been to Moscow, but with his father, he'd had dealings with Russian adversaries in the past, the most formidable being the ex-Soviet Army leader, General Vostok.

The wall that surrounded the governmental palace had a number of entry and exit points and according to the intel provided by Temple's contact, their target would be using the entrance at the eastern corner of the wall. Jonny walked through the square, his mind assimilating and compiling the details of the site.

Turning from the wall, Jonny looked across the Moscow River. Nodding his head in the direction he was looking, Jonny spoke, "The building across the river looks like a perfect spot. Clear line of sight to the wall and far enough away to facilitate a hasty departure before the authorities arrive."

Temple nodded proudly. "What about the winds?"

"We can adjust the trajectory of the shot based on the weather patterns at that time. The building appears large enough that we could adjust our firing position rather quickly if necessary."

"And Kreed had his doubts about you, Hotshot." Temple clapped him on the shoulder.

"Kreed can stick it where the sun don't shine." Jonny quipped.

Temple boomed a laugh, drawing a few looks from passersby. "I like you, kid. Damn I like you."

"We should check out that building across the river." Jonny stated.

"Let's go. We'll do a quick recon then head to the safe house."

"Have we received the timetable yet?"

"No," Temple's mood turned serious. "We should get more tonight at the safe house."

"Alright." Jonny nodded.

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Roberts made his way through Moscow's International Airport. Not needing an interpreter due to his ability to read and understand the language, he navigated through the thick crowds towards baggage claim.

After securing his belongings, he made his way outside and was flagged down by his contact.

"Agent Roberts?" The man asked in Russian.

Terry nodded. "Yes."

"This way, Sir." the escort indicated the idling SUV that waited at the curb. "I've been instructed to take you to your hotel."

"Thank you." Roberts replied. "Before we go, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Sir." The man replied. To Roberts it appeared the icy cold wind had no effect on the native man.

"Where does the rabbit go?" Roberts asked, changing the dialect of his words.

"Down the hole to Wonderland." The man answered immediately.

Identity confirmed, Roberts relaxed and climbed into the vehicle.

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The side of Race's head ached as he tried to open his eyes. Groaning, his vision was unfocused and he knew he more than likely was suffering from a concussion thanks to the guard.

He was laid out on the garage floor. His tuxedo jacket had been stripped from his torso. Pushing himself up, Race felt strong arms grab him from behind. He was yanked to his feet. The sudden movement made his head spin and he fought the urge to vomit.

"What's going on?" He mumbled. The goons tossed him into a chair. One kept a thick hand on the back of Race's neck while the other came around and stood to the side, a compact MP5K leveled at Race's chest.

Martucci stood before him. A sly grin adorned the greasy man's face. Another guard held Jade.

Martucci made a ticking sound, giving Race a pouting look as if he was scolding the American. "Signor Blackburn, I am disappointed in you."

"What's this about? I told your men I was lost. Then they hit me. Is this how you treat your guests, Signor Martucci?"

"What were you doing upstairs, Signor?"

"I told you, I was lost. How are none of you understanding this?" Race shot back.

"Why did you bring a gun into my home?" Martucci questioned, ignoring Race's statement.

"I always carry a weapon for self-defense. A man in my position has enemies, Signor."

"Si, of course you do." Martucci chuckled. "Who are you really, Signor?"

"You know who I am." Race stated. His words were directed towards Martucci, but his eyes wandered ever so slightly towards the gunman with the MP5K. A look in Jade's direction told Race the woman was contemplating the same thing he was.

Looking around, Race acted like he was disoriented. He observed the garage door at the far end. Surprisingly it wasn't reinforced like Race would have assumed. Martucci's arrogance probably led the Italian to believe that no one would ever think of robbing him or trying to steal his vehicles.

"You are not who you claim to be, Signor. That much I do know." Martucci frowned.

Race absorbed the information as best as his rattled brain allowed. Martucci was suspicious, but it appeared he didn't know Race's true identity. That could play into Race's favor.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a businessman."

"You are lying, Signor. I have ways of making you answer my questions truthfully." Martucci nodded towards the gunman.

Taking a step towards Race, the man cracked him against his already damaged head with the butt of his rifle. Race gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Stop this. He's telling the truth." Jade pleaded.

"Silence, woman." Martucci grumbled and backhanded Jade across the face, splitting her lip.

"You'll regret that, Martucci." Race growled.

"You are in no position to make threats, Signor. Now tell me what I want to know. What are you doing here? Who sent you?"

"I've told you already, damnit." Race snarled between his teeth. "Let us go, we've done nothing wrong."

"Why were you upstairs?" Martucci demanded again.

"I told you." Race started, but was cut off by another hit to his head.

Martucci smiled. Snapping his fingers, he laughed as another guard emerged from behind the Italian. Pushing a cart, Race kept his features neutral, but inside he tensed. The cart contained jumper cables. Stopping the cart in front of Race, the thug then went to the Mustang. Race watched as the goon popped the hood and placed the cables on the car's battery. He went back and started the car, the engine roaring to life.

Martucci laughed viciously as he strode forward. Grabbing a pair of thick, insulated gloves from the cart, the Italian made a show of putting them on then picking up the other end of the jumper cables. The new gunman came forward and tore Race's shirt open, exposing his bare chest.

"I hope you are prepared for what is about to happen to you, Signor."

"You do this and I'll fucking kill you." Race promised. He jerked backwards, but the man behind him held him firmly in his grasp.

"Somehow I doubt that, Signor." Martucci stated. His smile disappeared. Race felt the man behind him let go a second before Martucci jammed the ends of the cables against Race's skin.

White hot pain seared through Race's body. Grunting, he battled against the onslaught of misery that assaulted his entire body.

Eventually Martucci pulled back, a wicked grin on his face. Race's head slummed forward.

"Are you prepared to talk?" Martucci teased.

Head still low, Race raised his eyes, but he didn't look at Martucci. Instead he met Jade's gaze and a silent exchange passed between the two.

When Race didn't answer, Martucci stepped towards him again, cables raised, taunting. He leaned forward, the ends inches from Race's chest.

Race acted. Ignoring the pain, he lashed out with a vicious kick, connecting straight on with Martucci's pudgy shin. Howling from the attack, the Italian faltered and lowered the cables. Race didn't hesitate. Jumping to his feet, he grabbed Martucci, spun him around and flung the fat man into the chair and the rear guard.

Jade felt her captor's hold loosen when he saw Race attack his employer. Dropping to her knees, Jade broke free of the man's hold. Spinning, she kicked out the man's legs, causing him to crash to the floor. On him in a flash, Jade drove her knee into the man's groin then reached under his jacket, snagging his concealed firearm. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting hard enough to illicit a yelp of pain from the woman. Repositioning herself, she turned the weapon in her hand just enough to point it at the man's chest. She squeezed the trigger. The bullet smacked into his chest, piercing his heart. He released her as he died.

"Stop them!" Martucci cried, stunned by Race's resiliency and sudden attack.

The thug with the MP5K raised the weapon to fire. Race ducked and drove his shoulder into the man's gut. Arms flung skyward, the goon let loose a hail of bullets. Reaching up, Race secured the man's firing arm and dropped back down. Rotating his hips he threw the man to the side to crash against the grill of one of Martucci's priceless antique cars. Race tore the weapon from the man's hand, pointed it at the third goon and fired.

"Come on!" He yelled, snagging a spare magazine from the downed thug's rig. He could see Martucci and the first guard scrambling back to their feet.

"Stop them! Don't let them get away." Martucci whined.

In one fluid motion, Race ripped the cables from the Mustang's battery and slammed the hood down. Jumping into the car, he grinned. Martucci hadn't known it, but he effectively secured Race's getaway car when the slimy Italian decided it would be fun to torture him. Race revved the engine. Jade was in the vehicle a moment later. Banging the shifter and clutch into gear, Race jerked the wheel, spinning the tires. Speeding towards the garage door, Race heard Jade inhale as the Mustang crashed through the flimsy barrier.

"I forgot how much fun it is to hang around you, handsome." Jade shouted, the muscle car darting out into the driveway.

Sneering, Race shifted again, gaining speed, as they fled down the drive. "We're not out of the woods yet."

Shouts rang out from the startled guards as gunfire followed the fleeing vehicle. Seconds later he heard a number of vehicles starting up, giving chase.

Tearing onto the main road, Race spun the wheel, nearly missing a passing car that slammed on its brakes to avoid the crash.

Two large SUVs were in pursuit. Glancing in the rear view mirror, Race saw two motorcycle sport bikes peeling away from the SUVs, gaining ground.

"Shoot those fuckers." Race ordered when the bikers opened fire on their car.

Grabbing the MP5K from where Race had dropped it between the seats, Jade leaned out the window and fired. The first biker went down. The SUV behind it never even slowed, instead running over the fallen biker as the motorcycle skidded off the road.

The second biker swerved, then throttled the bike, coming up on the driver's side of the Mustang. Aiming his pistol at Race the moment he was next to the window, Race shook his head and jerked the wheel, crashing into the biker and sending him careening off the road into a ditch.

Race grunted. Pushing the muscle car harder, he sped towards the small village just down the road. He had to lose his pursuers quickly; driving through the town could prove dangerous to Race and Jade and any innocent townsfolk.

A man leaned out of the SUV and opened fire. Race jerked the wheel and downshifted in order to avoid a crash. The moment the tires were aligned he shifted, picking up speed.

The town appeared sooner than Race expected, forcing him to slow down due to the road narrowing. "Not good." He grumbled. Whipping the large Mustang down a side street, he hoped to lose Martucci's guards in the town. A moment later the SUVs turned as well.

"They're still on our tail." Jade announced unnecessarily.

"I see them." Race responded, pushing the vehicle harder. "I have an idea."

"Great." Jade leaned out and fired a burst of rounds, forcing the gunman back inside his SUV. The last round left the barrel, forcing Jade to quickly change out the magazine with the extra Race had the forethought to take.

At the next intersection, Race made a hard left turn, shooting the car down the main thoroughfare. Frightened pedestrians scrambled out of their path just seconds before Race would have plowed them down. Gunning the engine, he headed straight for the upcoming traffic circle.

"You're insane, Bannon!" Jade cried in surprise.

"Yeah," Race smirked, "Don't you just love me? Hang tight!"

Hitting the traffic circle at full speed, Race downshifted and spun the wheel. Smoke flared from the tires and the engine screamed as Race drifted the Mustang around the statue that adorned the center of the road. Coming around, he shifted again and gunned it, heading straight back towards their pursuers.

The driver of the first SUV panicked and jerked his steering wheel hard. The SUV crashed into a number of parked cars and flipped. Lifted from the ground, the vehicle tumbled through the air then came crashing down just feet from Race's Mustang.

The second SUV readjusted and turned at the last possible moment. Race flew by it without even glancing at the men inside. He heard the SUV whine and saw the driver was readjusting, turning the vehicle to pursue once again. Race kept his eyes on the next traffic circle. He figured the SUV would assume he'd do the same thing, but Race had something else in mind.

Banging the gears, Race frowned. As the road opened up before him, he downshifted suddenly, hit the brakes, and spun the car sideways. Coming to a sudden stop, his side of the vehicle was now facing the oncoming SUV. Snatching the MP5K from Jade's hands, he raised the rifle and fired. Rounds tore into the approaching SUV's hood and windshield. He saw blood splatter from the driver onto the inside of the glass. The SUV lost its momentum and drifted to the side as the dead driver fell on the steering wheel, forcing it to spin and lose control.

Race tossed the weapon aside. With a sneer in the direction of their attackers, his hand was back on the shifter, pushing the vehicle back into gear. Turning the wheel, he fishtailed the Mustang, burned the tires, and took off down the road. Race had no idea where he was going, he just knew he had to get out of there before the authorities arrived.

Within minutes they were out of the town and heading down another country road.

"You okay?" He finally asked once he knew they were no longer being chased.

"Race Bannon, my God." Jade laughed. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear."

Race smirked again. "We can't go back to Rome. Martucci knows where we were staying."

"Head north, handsome. I know a place we can hole up for a while."

"We need to ditch this car, the cops will be looking for it."

"I know a guy that can get us some wheels." Jade answered.

Nodding, Race finally exhaled. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he actually smiled. _'Damn,'_ He thought _. 'I forgot how exciting this shit can be.'_

Race slowed the Mustang, pulling off to the side of the road. Reaching into his pocket, he was happy to find the thumb drives still deeply tucked away in the hidden inset pocket of his pants. Martucci's goons had found his handgun, but they hadn't searched him thoroughly enough to find what they really needed to recover.

Smiling, he put the drive away and pulled his phone out of his other pocket.

"Martucci should really hire thugs that know how to properly search a suspect." Race laughed.

"Who are you calling?"

"No one." Race replied.

Jade watched him work the phone, typing a quick text message. Once sent, he turned the phone off and placed it back in his pocket.

"What was that all about?" Jade inquired.

"Nothing." Race pulled the vehicle back onto the road. "Where are we headed?"

With a sigh, Jade shook her head. Bannon was being cautious, even with her, but she really couldn't blame him after what just happened. Leaning back in the seat, Jade exhaled deeply. "Milan. Head to Milan."

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"What can you tell me?" Phil asked. Seated at his desk, he spoke to one of his WHO contacts in the U.N.

"Not much at this point." The man replied. "We think we've contained the outbreak within the town and we've taken precautions to ensure it doesn't spread into the city."

"Any evidence this the work of a terrorist organization?"

"Not at this time. What makes you think this is the result of an attack?" The man was obviously skeptical.

"I've seen something like this before," Phil answered. "I'm not convinced this is something that occurred naturally."

"With all due respect, Director Corbin, you are not a scientist or a doctor." The man answered, his voice reflecting his annoyance with being questioned.

"I understand that, Doctor Prather, however I have experience dealing with biological and chemical threats."

A sigh bled through the phone. "I know you do, hence why I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt in regards to your interest in this matter."

"My interest is in saving lives, Doctor." Phil replied. He too was starting to get annoyed. Dealing with bureaucracy in Washington was painful enough, but having to interact with the U.N. always perturbed Corbin.

"Yes, of course." Doctor Prather replied. "I'll send you the report once it's been finalized. But know that for now the outbreak has been contained."

"Thank you." Phil replied. He wanted to tell the man to make sure he sent the report expeditiously, but he knew if he spoke his mind he'd end up getting it months later. So he bit his tongue and played nice.

"Is there anything else I can do for you at this time, Director Corbin? If not, I am extremely busy."

"No. Thank you, Doctor." Phil answered. He'd barely gotten his statement out before the line went dead.

Scowling, he slammed the phone down into its receiver, rattling some items on his desk.

Rubbing his hands over his face, Corbin grumbled then picked the phone up once again. He wanted to check in on Doctor Quest's progress, but before he could dial the number his cell phone beeped.

Reading the text message, Corbin's shoulders sagged. "Fuck." He mumbled.

The message was from Race and it was only one word: HUMMINGBIRD

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The tone pulled Jessie from her thoughts. Fingers flying across the keyboard, she pulled up the message the alert had signaled. The word HUMMINGBIRD filled her screen. Frowning, she had no idea what the message meant, but she was determined to find out.

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Phil knocked on the front door of the Quest mansion. It had been twenty four hours since he'd received Race's message. When Bannon did not send the corresponding message in the appropriate timeframe, Phil had boarded his jet and headed to Maine. He didn't like what he had to do next, but at this point, he knew it was necessary. Within the last twenty four hours he had made all the arrangements required for what he was about to do and with Roberts in Moscow he had left Agent Dugger in charge back at Headquarters.

Shaking his head against the brisk morning breeze, he sighed heavily. "Forgive me." He mumbled to himself.

Estella opened the door, a look of surprise on her face. "Phil? What are you doing here? What's happened?"

Stepping inside, Phil shrugged out of his coat. "I don't have any new information at this time. I just wanted to come up and check on all of you and on my team."

"Benton is still working on the sample you brought up the other day. He's not had much luck with separating the components." Estella stated. Heading towards the kitchen, she asked, "Would you like some coffee?"

"No thank you, I'm fine." Phil replied. "How have you been holding up?"

Sighing, Estella went into the kitchen, Phil followed. Pouring herself a cup of java, she turned to look at her former employer and friend. "I'm managing as best as I can, Phil. Honestly, this hasn't been easy. Jessie seems determined to shut me out."

"I doubt that's what she's doing, Estella. She's concentrating on Jonny more so than herself. What about the…other issues?"

Estella's eyes drifted to the side for a moment before turning back to look at the man. "I take that one day at a time. I won't lie and say I haven't thought about going back to those pills. The relief they gave me…"

"You don't need that stuff, Estella." Phil said with concern. "You can do this on your own. It's hard, but at least you won't be giving up again."

Estella nodded, taking a sip of the steaming brew, she changed the subject. "How are you doing?"

Corbin shrugged, "Just like everyone else; trying to keep it together long enough to bring Jonny home safely."

"You haven't spoken to your family?"

Phil shook his head, "I can't. Contacting them could put them in danger again."

"I'm sorry, Phil. Really, I am." Estella said.

Phil felt her statement was from the heart. Looking around nervously, he scratched the side of his face. Estella smiled a little at his nervous tick. "I don't want to bother Doctor Quest if he's currently engaged at the moment. Where's Jessie?"

"Amazingly not in the lighthouse." Estella chuckled humorlessly.

"What?"

"She was spending a lot of time out there. She said it was to work on a Questworld program, but I think she was trying to search for Jonny on her own."

Phil nodded, "I see."

"She's in the gym."

"Do you mind if I go speak to her?"

Estella shook her head. "Of course not. At this point, I'll be happy if she talks to anyone and I know she'll talk to you."

Again, Phil shrugged. "I know my way to the gym. Take care, Estella."

He left the kitchen. Estella frowned at the man's strange choice of words.

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Jessie increased the speed on the treadmill when she heard the doors to the Quest Compound's gym open and close. Glancing in that direction from the side of her eyes, she frowned briefly. She knew Corbin was here, she heard IRIS announce his presence, but now he was headed straight for her. With a scowl she looked back at the treadmill's monitor as he came to stand next to her.

"What are you doing here?" She managed to say as she kept running.

Phil crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. "You know why I'm here."

"Obviously not to tell us that you found Jonny." Jessie shot back.

"You know damn well we haven't found Jonny yet."

Jessie tried to look shocked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Cut the crap, Jess. Get off the treadmill, we need to talk."

Eyeing him, she knew he wasn't going to leave; he'd stand there, waiting till she wore herself out on the workout equipment. Sighing she slowed the belt's speed then stepped off as it slowed to a halt. Grabbing a towel, she wiped the perspiration from her face.

"If you're not here to tell me that you've found Jonny, then what are you doing here?" Jessie questioned.

"You know what I'm doing here, Jessie."

"Excuse me?"

Phil sighed, "I know you hacked my computer, Jessie."

"What?"

Smirking he replied, "You used Race's old laptop to infiltrate our network in an attempt to ghost through my system. The thing is, Jessie, I knew the moment you did it."

"Bullshit." Jessie challenged.

Phil shook his head in response to the young redhead's defiance. "Your mistake was using your father's machine. I had that computer's MAC address flagged to alert me if it ever logged back on to our databases."

"Why?" Jessie asked. Something in Corbin's tone led her to believe that he wasn't actually mad at her.

"Because I knew if he used that laptop it meant something serious happened to either himself or this family. He kept it as a last ditch failsafe to contact me if some serious shit hit the fan. I know your father's not here, so when you used his computer, I knew you were up to something."

"If that's true why didn't you block me?"

"Because I knew what you were trying to do and I admire you for it. The problem is, I only let you see what I wanted you to see. You were scanning a sanitized image of my system."

"So that's why you're here? You've come to arrest me?"

Phil laughed. "Seriously, Jessie? You can drop the tough girl act. No one knows about this but us."

"So how much of what I saw was true?"

"Most of it." Phil stated.

"So that still doesn't answer my question of why you are here."

Phil sighed. Taking a seat on a weight bench he explained, "You know your dad and I go way back and he's saved my ass more times than I can count." Chuckling he added, "Granted, his cocky attitude has gotten me hemmed up more times than I can count as well. You have no idea how many ass-chewings from senior Intelligence officials and political asshats I've endured because of Race Bannon and his damn-the-rules approach to this profession."

Jessie smiled as she sat across from him, "And I thought it was just my mother that caused you so much grief."

"It's your entire damn family, Jess!" Phil shot back with a grin. "But like I said, your dad and I go way back and that's why I'm here."

"Why?"

"To stop you from doing what you're planning to do."

Eyes narrowing, Jessie paused; she needed to choose her next words wisely. "Which is…"

"Again, Jess, cut the crap. I cannot in good conscience watch you run off on your own to track down Jonny."

Jessie tried to keep her face neutral; but Corbin knew. She'd thought she was being so careful.

Continuing, Phil said, "Your father is a highly trained and skilled covert operator. He's the professional. Running off on your own will only make him lose focus on his mission, possibly endanger Jonny, and cause me to have to reallocate resources to track you down. We got you out of the hands of those traffickers once, Jess, don't run right back into their clutches."

Jessie looked away as she assimilated what Phil was telling her. He obviously knew her plan, but what he didn't understand was her need to find her love. Jonny was everything to her, her entire world. How could she possibly explain to Phil the emptiness she felt without her blue eyed angel? How could he know that the only way she could absolve herself of the guilt of having left him to their captors was to do everything in her power to find him?

"Agent Corbin, you don't understand…" She started, but paused as he raised a hand, interrupting her.

"I understand perfectly, Jessie. I understand that you are a Bannon and as a Bannon you'll simply wait until I leave and then continue on with what you were doing before I came here. I know you love Jonny and would do anything to get him back."

Studying him, Jessie saw something shimmer in his eyes, "What aren't you telling me?"

"Not much gets by you, huh, Bannon?" Phil huffed.

"It's in my blood." Jessie replied. "Tell me."

With a sigh, Phil responded, "Your dad's mission is two-fold, Jess. He went to find Jonny and bring him home, but he's also hunting The Consortium."

"Have you learned anything more about The Consortium?"

"My best Agents are working diligently to find this man called The Viper as well as his hideout. We think he's at least a mid-level, if not higher, member of The Consortium. I think he's the one that has Jonny. As for the group itself, what its motives are or who's leading it, I have no idea. One thing we do know is that the traffickers that kidnapped you do business with The Consortium. It's just difficult getting any of them to talk."

The mention of the traffickers caused Jessie to flush. She'd been trying hard to forget what happened to her and Jonny during their captivity, but now it was brought back to the front of her mind. Looking at her godfather, she saw in his eyes that he knew everything.

Phil studied the young redhead as she stood and turned away from him. Standing himself, he watched as she paced the main row of the gym, her head low as she shook her hands.

Eventually she stopped a few paces from Phil. Raising her eyes to look at him, she asked in a low voice. "You saw what they did to us, didn't you?"

Corbin felt like he'd been stabbed in the heart. Frowning, he slowly nodded, "I did, Jess."

Lowering her eyes, she stood motionless for a moment then sank to the floor, plopping down to sit cross-legged. Phil went to her and crouching down, he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. She looked at the floor as he spoke. "Jess, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Mister Corbin." She replied in a hushed tone.

"Jessie, those men are going to pay for what they did, those that are still alive at this point that is. What we found…we had to catalogue those photos as evidence. But you have my word, the only people that saw them were my Agents that processed the scene. And none of my people would ever do or say anything about what they saw."

Sniffing, Jessie nodded her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Besides what I told you at the hospital, how much do you know about what happened?" She asked.

Phil blinked. "I know everything, Jessie." He answered honestly. "I know what was done to you. I saw with my own eyes the conditions you were held captive in. I saw the results of your medical examination, but only as it related to possible charges against those involved."

"So you know? I ordered the Doctor not to tell anyone."

Phil nodded. "I only know because, like I said, I was privy to your file in relation to charges against the men we arrested."

"Did you tell anyone? Did you tell my parents? Or Doctor Quest?"

"I didn't tell anyone, Jessie." Phil remarked quietly. "Your dad does know about you and Jonny, he figured that much out on his own."

Jessie lowered her eyes. Reaching out she wrapped her arms around Phil's neck and cried. Letting the tears flow, the sobs hurt as her godfather held her tightly. "I'm so sorry, Jessie." Phil breathed as he held her close, afraid to let the girl go.

"I can never…" Jessie hiccupped. "How can I ever be with Jonny again?"

"Jessie, I don't know what to tell you." Phil answered as she continued to cry. "All I can say is that you have a family that loves you and supports you, no matter what. That includes me too, kiddo. No one will ever blame you for what happened."

"Jonny will." Jessie countered between tears.

"No he won't, Jess." Phil replied, squeezing her tighter in an effort to expel the hurtful thoughts from the redhead. "It may take him time to come to terms with it, but he won't blame you and he won't hate you. Jonny's a great kid. He loves you as much as you love him."

Her tears continued, flushing the pain and the hurt from her body until she felt nothing but numbness. The entire time Phil held her; his touch and his words comforted her as much as they could at the moment. Jessie once again found herself grateful that Phil didn't lie to her or spout of annoying clichés that held little to no truth behind them; instead he just told her how it was. It was painful and difficult and the road ahead was filled with danger and uncertainty, but at least it was the truth.

"Jessie, look at me." Phil requested softly when he heard her crying subside. Slowly, she pulled back and turned her eyes towards him, "Jessie, those sons of bitches that did those things to you, that took those pictures, that caused you all this pain and suffering, they're all dead. The bastard that touched you," Phil grinned, "I broke that mother fucker's hand for you. He's going to rot in a prison cell for the rest of his miserable life, however long that ends up being until the inmates get their hands on him. But, Jess, something bigger is going on. We think The Consortium is training these kids to be killers; pawns in some scheme they plan to carry out. I believe they're planning to carry out a biological or chemical attack."

"What makes you say that?" Jessie asked, her own pain momentarily tempered in light of this new information.

Standing, Phil held out his hands to her; grabbing his forearms, Jessie was pulled gently to her feet. They walked back over to the benches and sat back down. "When your dad left on this mission, he started off in Rome, going after a sleazebag money launderer we believe was funneling funds for The Consortium and the traffickers."

"What happened?"

"You're dad ran into some trouble. All I know is that he sent me a message, but didn't make the mandatory twenty four hour follow-up."

"So what does that mean?" Jessie asked.

Phil stopped himself from smiling; he was seeing Race in Jessie, attacking the problem. "Like I told you already, I promised your dad I would look after you. But I'm going after him. So, I need to take you some place safe. Doctor Quest and Estella won't leave, but I need to know that you're being looked after while I'm gone."

Shaking her head, Jessie wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks. "No."

"Jessie, please." Phil pleaded. He knew going into this that convincing Race Bannon's daughter to go into hiding would be a near impossible task.

"No, I'm either staying here or I'm coming with you." Jessie responded firmly.

Sighing, Phil lowered his head. He decided to change the subject and see just how much Jessie really knew. "What did you learn from my computer?"

No longer needing to hide her secret searches, Jessie paused to recall the information from her most recent search to her mind, she finally asked, "What does HUMMINGBIRD mean?"

Phil cocked his head. Looking at the girl as another smile spread across his lips. "Wait. You got into my phone too? Now that I did not know. You're dangerous, Bannon. You know that, right?"

Jessie actually smiled. "What does it mean? I don't think it's an anagram so therefore it's a code word, isn't it?"

"HUMMINGBIRD is a code word. When I received that message I started making preparations. Once the twenty four hours passed, I knew I had to come here to retrieve you. A Bannon is only patient for so long. Sooner, rather than later, you would have tried to go after Jonny on your own. I knew I would have to get you somewhere safe before I left so you wouldn't take off."

"So that message was from my dad?"

Phil nodded. "It is a code. He was telling me that he may have to go to ground. He thinks his cover might have been blown."

"How can you know what's happened?"

"He missed the required twenty four hour check in, which means I need to act now to find him. The clock has already started ticking and if I don't hear from him soon it means he went to ground or he was captured. Either way, I have to be postured to react accordingly."

"Why you? You're the Director. Don't you have Agents that can do this?"

"I said it earlier, Jess, I owe it to your dad to be ready to respond."

"Why?" Something in his voice made her ask.

"Something your dad did for me." Phil responded.

"There's that cryptic talk my mom is always harping about."

"Maybe one day I'll tell you," Phil replied, his smile gone. "Just know that I owe it to your dad to do this for him."

"I'm coming with you." Jessie stood and placed her hands on her hips, staring down the I-1 Director.

"Jessie, you misunderstand me. I'm going to take you somewhere safe, not bring you on the mission with me." Phil countered. "This compound is safe, but people know you're here. I'm taking you somewhere that no one will know where you are, not even your parents."

Shaking her head, Jessie rebutted his statement, "I'm coming with you. You already said yourself that you know I'll take off on my own the moment you leave and you're absolutely correct. I'll just do the same thing if you drop me off at some safe house so you can go solo. Not happening, Corbin. So, like I said, I'm coming with you."

Standing, Phil shook his head. "If I'm still breathing when this is all over, it will only be temporary because your parents are going to kill me. Now it's come full circle, the entire Bannon family has become a pain if my fucking ass."

Jessie huffed out a laugh. "Deal, Corbin."

Holding her stare of a few moments, Phil finally shook his head. "You want to do this? Fine. But you do exactly as I say, when I say it, no questions. This world you're about to enter isn't some James Bond flick. This world is dark and one mistake will get us both killed. You mess up, you end up face down in some filthy, third world alley with a bullet in the back of your skull."

"I can handle myself. You don't' have to be so dramatic."

"See? There's that Bannon sass that's been the bane of my fucking existence for almost twenty years."

"Hey, okay, sorry." Jessie said as the man turned to leave. "Just tell me what to do."

Turning back he stared her down for a few seconds. Finally, a smile spread across his lips as he pointed at her phone where it sat on the weight bench. "Check your email. Follow the instructions and meet me at the time and location."

"What?" She sounded perplexed.

"You're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Bannon." Phil winked and headed for the door.

Jessie watched him go. Grabbing her phone she typed in her passcode then went to her email; a new message was in her inbox. The subject listed the location where to meet him and the time.

"What the hell?" She mumbled as she hit the attachment link in the email. A moment later her screen went dark. Looking up at the doors to the gym, Jessie grinned. "Nice one, Phil. You got me."

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"Temple has become a liability." The masked man stated. "He and the Quest boy need to be cut off."

"No," Kreed shot back. He was seated at a large oak table. Circular in design, the furniture allowed for each board member to see the others. "Temple knows what he is doing. His methods may be unconventional, but he gets the job done. He's the best."

"So why has he defied us in regards to attacking the Quest team and I-1?" The woman sneered at the Englishman.

"Because he recognizes those men as the threats that they are. We've underestimated Race Bannon and I-1. They will not stop in their pursuit to save Jonathan Quest. The only way to prevent them from finding us is to eliminate them. Temple knows this." Kreed explained.

"What do you propose, Mister Kreed?" Grimm asked from behind his mask.

"We know where Bannon is. The fool Martucci let Bannon slip from his fingers, but we still have eyes on him. Once Temple completes his mission in Moscow, I suggest you allow him to deal with his former partner once and for all."

"Do you feel that is wise?" The second man and more intimidating of the members asked.

"It is what needs to be done." Kreed nodded.

"And what about you, Mister Kreed? What are your plans?"

"I have something else in mind. In the event that Mister Temple is unsuccessful in dealing with Bannon, however unlikely that may be, I want to have a contingency plan in place."

"And what is that plan?" The woman huffed.

"Temple had the right idea when he sent his crew after Director Corbin's family. He just did not account for the sloppiness of his men or that Corbin would react the way he did. But Bannon is in Europe and Corbin has been splitting his time between D.C. and Maine. Neither one of them is a problem at the moment."

"Are you proposing we attack the Quest mansion? That's suicide. The place is crawling with I-1 Agents." Grimm threw his hands in the air.

Kreed shook his head, an evil smile spreading across his lips. "Calm yourself, Mister Grimm. I propose no such thing. Not every operation needs to be a violent assault. Trust me on this one."

A series of grumbles was the only reply Kreed received. Standing, he tugged on the end of his suit jacket. "I will take your silence as acquiescence. Thank you. You will not be disappointed. Now if you'll excuse me I must make preparations before I head to Maine."

Spinning on his heel, Kreed strode confidently from The Consortium conference room. He felt the glares of his fellow board members boring a hole in his back, but he did not care. Temple was not the only member of the board that knew how to achieve the results he sought.

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Jessie grabbed her backpack from the passenger seat before leaving her car to walk the half a block over to the location listed in Phil's email. For having spent almost a decade of her life in Rockport, she had never been to the diner; in fact she didn't even know it existed as it was located in a part of town she rarely frequented. Stepping inside, the diner was almost completely deserted. Behind the counter an older African-American woman was reading a magazine. She glanced up when she saw Jessie enter then immediately went back to reading. Glancing around, she saw Phil sitting in the third booth from the door, sipping coffee and drumming his fingers on the table.

She walked up to him, "You owe me a new iPhone."

Phil looked her in the eyes, "I owe you nothing."

"I've never been here before." Jessie said as she looked around the diner. It was quaint, but dark, the greyness of the overcast afternoon filtering in through the windows.

Phil stood and walked over to the woman behind the counter. "Two coffees to go please, Haneda."

"She old enough to drink coffee, Phil?" The woman asked. Jessie frowned, but the fact that Phil and the waitress knew each other's names was not lost of her.

Jessie huffed audibly which caused both the woman and Phil to look at her and laugh lightly.

"She's a Bannon, alright." Haneda replied.

"You know who I am?" Jessie asked, eyeing the woman while she filled two large Styrofoam cups with coffee.

"That I do, honey. Everyone in these parts knows your daddy and that famous scientist he protects. Heck, the good Doctor employs most of this town. Phil here employs most of the rest."

Jessie looked at the Director with wide eyes. "You have Agents here?"

"She didn't say they were Agents." Phil replied. Haneda covered the cups with lids then placed them on the counter in front of Corbin.

"Informants?"

"Lookouts, if you will." Phil replied as he pulled out his wallet to pay for the drinks.

Haneda waved him off and said, "On the house, baby."

"I can't do that," Phil replied.

"You can and you will, Philip." Haneda replied sternly. "Just take care of her and bring everyone home safely. I miss seeing that bulky daddy of hers on his early morning runs."

Phil laughed. Moving around the side of the counter, Phil leaned over and kissed the big woman on the cheek. Jessie watched; she could have sworn she saw Phil whisper something to the woman. As if to confirm her suspicions, Haneda nodded slightly. Phil picked up the cups and headed for the door.

He walked past Jessie without another word, forcing her to follow. She quickened her step to keep up with him as he headed across the street. Scanning her surroundings as she followed, she discovered that as the dreary overcast day drew on, the streets were deserted. If Phil really did have lookouts and informants running around Rockport, she wondered just how many of them were currently watching them head down the street.

Two cars were parked on the far side of the street and Phil made his way towards the first, a bland Ford Taurus. Turning to look at her he set the coffees on the roof and said, "Give me your backpack."

She was about to question why, but the look on his face made her nod; she handed it over. His mood had shifted from lighthearted to dead-set serious the moment he stepped out of the diner. Setting it on the hood of the vehicle, he opened the satchel, digging through its contents. "What are you doing?" She finally blurted out.

Phil withdrew her second iPhone, a tablet, her iPod and her passport. He pocketed the passport then looked at her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen such a look on her godfather's face. "This is your last chance to walk away and go back to the Quest mansion."

"I'm not leaving."

"Get in this car and your life will never be the same nor will it be what you expect it to be. This life isn't for everyone. This life isn't what you think it is, Jess. You have to be prepared to do whatever is necessary."

"I'm prepared."

"Are you prepared to take another life without hesitation?"

"I killed Drazen's men, remember?"

Phil shook his head. "You killed those men in self-defense. What I'm asking is are you prepared to kill for the mission? Are you prepared to leave bodies, not witnesses?"

"Are you asking if I'm prepared to be an assassin?"

Phil shook his head and started putting her items back in her backpack. "I knew this was a mistake." He grumbled.

"Agent Corbin, no, wait. Stop." Jessie said, "Stop damnit. Look, this is new to me of course, but I'm prepared to listen and do what I have to do. Please, you have to help me so we can help Jonny."

He gave her a hard look and she knew he was testing her; if she looked away now he'd leave her behind, she had no doubt. Setting her jaw she said, "I'm prepared to do what is necessary for the mission. No matter what."

Phil's upper lip curled with a little snarling grin. He took her electronics out of the backpack and dropped each one to the ground, destroying them under his heel. When he was done he handed her bag back, then retrieved the coffee cups before getting into the car. Jessie quickly made her way to the passenger side and climbed in just as he got behind the wheel, handed her the drinks, then started the engine.

"First things first; stop calling me Agent Corbin. From now on call me Phil. Second, we have a long trip ahead of us, so drink that if you want to stay up for a bit. What did you tell Doctor Quest and your mom?"

"I said I was going out shopping with some friends from school." She replied as she placed the drinks in the center console's cup holders. "And was destroying my stuff really necessary?"

Looking at his watch, Phil spoke. "In exactly four hours and thirteen minutes, Agent Dugger is going to call Doctor Quest and your mom and tell them you are with me. He'll inform them that we are moving you to a safe location at the request of Race and that I was told not to inform them, for everyone's safety. From here on out, Dug will keep Doctor Quest and your mother updated with any relevant information related to the search for Jonny." Turing to look at her he added, "And yes, destroying your things was necessary. You'll be compensated for them when we get back."

Jessie huffed, "Alright."

"Your passport will be stored in a safe place until we return." He motioned to the glove box as he pulled the vehicle away from the curb and drove. Opening it, Jessie found an old Nokia cell phone, a HK USP semi-automatic pistol, and three fully loaded magazines. "Those are yours now. You'll get the rest of your equipment at our final destination. From here on out its only you and me, Jess."

"You knew I wasn't going to back down. You planned this all out, didn't you?" Jessie asked as she checked the handgun, loaded a magazine, and then put it and the spares into her bag.

Phil gave her a sideways look and smiled. "You're a Bannon. Of course I knew."

They drove in silence for some time. Concentrating on her breathing, Jessie recalled a number of meditation techniques that Hadji had shown her over the years. Phil's words were ominous and while he could have been acting in a way to frighten her into listening, she didn't feel that was the case.

As Jessie stared out the window, watching the countryside of Southern Maine pass her by, she finally asked. "Where are we going?"

"Your dad has taught you more than you know, but I can't take you into the field without some type of formal training. We have a limited amount of time until we have to act. So for the next week or so you're going to get a crash course on being a covert operations specialist, training that usually takes six months for most Agents."

"Damn." Jessie whistled, realization of the severity of her situation finally settling in.

Phil studied her as a mix of emotions filtered across the redhead's face. Frowning, he continued to drive for another two hours until they came upon a gas station. Pulling off the road and up to the pumps, he parked the vehicle as Jessie opened the door and stepped out.

Luckily there was no one else at the stop and Phil moved over to where Jessie stood at the rear of the car. "It's a lot to absorb, Jess."

Taking a number of deep breaths, she nodded. "Phil, do you honestly think we're going to find Jonny?"

"We found you, didn't we?" He replied as he began to pump gas.

"Yeah, but that was different."

"How so?"

"You said it yourself, these people we're up against…"

"I have faith in your father and my team. We'll beat The Consortium and we'll find Jonny."

Jessie nodded as she composed herself. "I'm going to use the restroom and get some snacks. You want anything?"

Reaching in to his pocket, Phil withdrew a wad of cash. Pulling a number of bills from the roll he handed them to Jessie. "

Jessie took the money, "You want anything?"

"I'll be in momentarily. Stay inside until we are both ready to leave."

Jessie asked, "So what is our final destination?"

Phil snapped his fingers and smiled at his goddaughter. "I hear Ohio is beautiful this time of year."

Rolling her eyes, she groaned. "Ohio? Ugh."

Phil laughed as Jessie turned and headed into the gas station.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Understood." Temple growled into his cell phone and ended the call.

He heard footsteps from behind. Turning to the side, he spied Jonny shuffling from one of the safe house's bedrooms out into the kitchen. Plopping down in a chair at the table where Temple already sat, Jonny used his fingers to rub his temples.

"What's wrong with you?" Greg asked.

"Headache," Jonny answered, squinting as he spoke. "I thought sleep would help, but I still have a dull throbbing pain."

Temple frowned. Headaches were one of the side effects of Kreed's drug and he'd seen some nasty results from overuse in other recruits. But Jonny was strong and Temple hoped the symptom was only temporary for the young blonde. However, he did know one cure.

Temple sauntered over to the kitchen and poured a glass of water for Jonny. With his back to the teen, he pulled two packets from his pocket and dumped them into the glass. Temple had already increased the dosage contained within one of the packets, now he was giving Jonny double.

For good measure, Temple reached into a separate pocket and pulled out a sleeve of prepackaged pills. Opening one, he carefully pulled the plastic coating of the pill apart and dumped the powdery substance into Jonny's drink. Stirring the powders until it dissolved he went back to the table and set the glass down in front of Jonny.

"Drink this, Hotshot. It'll help." Temple ordered with a stern look.

Without question, Jonny took it and drank. He didn't lower the glass from his lips until he'd consumed the entire thing.

"You should start feeling better soon." Temple remarked once Jonny set the glass back down. "Which is good because we have work to do".

With a nod, Jonny eyed his mentor. "I thought we had time before we had to act."

Rubbing his chin, Temple explained. "The board wants us to accelerate due to some new information that has come to light."

"What new information?"

"You'll find all of that out later. For right now, go get ready. We leave in fifteen minutes."

Jonny sighed, but noticed that his headache was starting to recede. Standing, he turned to go, but paused. Looking back at Greg, he said. "Greg, I've been having strange dreams."

"What kind of dreams?" Temple asked. This was another sign he was worried about.

"About my family."

"The Consortium?" Temple asked.

Jonny shook his head. "You know what I mean."

With a huff, Temple asked, "What are these dreams about?"

"They're more like memories, but strange. They feel different, almost altered. Like I'm not remembering them correctly for some reason, yet they also feel real. Like maybe the dreams are real, but my mind wants me to think they aren't. Does that make sense?"

Temple lied. "Your dreams are real. The drink helps clear the clouds and the haze from what you think you should be remembering to what you are remembering. Your dreams are telling you the truth. You should listen to them."

"Why would my family treat me so poorly?"

"Don't worry about that right now. Just know that I'm here for you, Hotshot. No matter what, I'm not going to abandon you like they did. Go get ready. Now we leave in ten."

With one more nod, Jonny disappeared back into the bedroom.

Temple watched and once Jonny was out of sight, he exhaled heavily _. 'I'm going to have to keep a much closer eye on him.'_ He told himself. But Temple knew one thing, when he got his hands on Race Bannon he would have to find a way to preoccupy Jonny. It was too early to expose the boy face to face with his former bodyguard. Jonny's condition just made it too risky; Temple didn't know how Jonny would react.

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Terry Roberts rose from his seat along with the rest of the interpreters at the delegation. Removing his headset, he stretched his arms over his head. It had been a long, exhausting day and he was looking forward to getting back to his hotel room. Once he sent in his report, he planned a video session with Karla. They'd only been dating a while, but he already missed her immensely and not a moment went by that the fiery Latina woman didn't somehow invade his thoughts.

Following a group out of the room and down the hall, Roberts came up behind a cluster of the actual delegates; a gaggle of politicians and dignitaries - stuffy suits, as his fellow Agents back home liked to call them.

Terry felt a clap on his shoulder as he walked. Another of the interpreters, a man from Germany, fell in step with Roberts and said, "Terry, we are going for drinks later. Would you like to come?"

"I don't know," Terry started. "We have an early start tomorrow."

"Nonsense," The German declared, drawing a laugh from a couple other men and women with them. "Just a few drinks."

"A few drinks to a German like you, Frederick, is twenty pints."

Frederick laughed heartily at Terry's jab. "You know my people too well, American friend!"

"I have a few things I have to do when we get back to the hotel, but maybe." Roberts acquiesced.

"Good. We will meet in the lobby at nineteen hundred hours." Frederick gave Terry's shoulder another slap then peeled away, back to his other friends.

Roberts continued on down the hall, exiting the building behind the group of politicians. A few had already went separate ways, but at least three men and one woman were still a number of steps ahead of them. He watched one of the men in particular. He had spoken at the delegation about the threats of biological warfare. Terry wasn't overly familiar with the man's identity and a number of the other members had dismissed him as paranoid or that he was attempting to stir up international panic in order to peddle his wares. What wares those were, Terry had no idea, but he figured he'd at least keep an eye on the man for the rest of the conference. He'd definitely mention him in his report back to Headquarters this evening. Something about him had set Terry's sights onto him and if he'd learned anything from Bannon, Corbin, and the others on his team, it was to trust your instincts.

They made their way towards the exit in the wall that led to the Red Square. The wind was kicking, forcing Roberts to shrug his shoulders against the cold, winter was definitely just around the corner, but in Mother Russia it felt like it had already arrived.

Squinting, Terry turned to head off. His hotel was only a couple miles away and he had planned to walk back and enjoy some of the sights, but that was before the temperature had dropped.

 _'I'll be alright. I'm tough, just like Bannon.'_ He convinced himself that it was just a bit of nippy air. At least it wasn't snowing.

Terry was about to leave the group of politicians behind when he heard a succession of two wisps. Turning back, his eyes widened as one of the delegates staggered then dropped.

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Jonny felt like his body was doused with sweat. His nerves were frayed, but he steadied his breathing in order to concentrate on his task at hand; he had to succeed. The headache that plagued him earlier in the day had dissipated into nothing, allowing Jonny to concentrate on the task at hand. Temple was next to him, spotting, and Jonny wanted nothing more than to make his mentor proud once again. All day Temple was agitated, grumbling indecipherable words under his breath. Jonny hoped that perhaps, with another successful mission under their belts, Temple could relax.

Swiping a hand through his hair, Jonny pushed his growing locks out of his eyes. "My hair is getting long." He mumbled.

"You should get a cut like mine. Make you more of man, not a pretty boy." Temple grunted a laugh.

"I don't have any greys I need to hide, old man." Jonny shot back with a grin.

"Watch it, Hotshot." Temple mused with a smirk. "This old man will still whip your ass if need be."

"Give it time, big man." Jonny replied as he settled in behind his rifle.

Inhaling, he peered through the scope, taking aim on the target; both men back to business.

"Windage?" He asked without looking away.

"Turn two clicks to the right." Temple replied.

Raising his hand, Jonny adjusted the knob on the high powered scope. Blinking, his trained eye picked up on the slight change.

"Status?" Was Jonny's next question.

"Maintain position." Temple replied. "Target ETA imminent."

"Understood." Jonny breathed.

They remained silent for a few minutes, they watched the doors of the historical Government building from atop their concealed position across the river. Jonny focused and blocked out the insane cold that was creeping through his clothing and into his bones. Even with the encroaching wintery bite, people moved about their daily business, unconcerned that they traveled through the shadow of one of the most infamous and secretive Government buildings in all the world, The Kremlin.

Minutes later, Temple spoke. "Side door of the wall. Move ten meters to the right. Confirm."

Jonny adjusted his position and an old man in a large overcoat and carrying a metal briefcase came into Jonny's sights. Even through the steady snowfall, Jonny was able to make out the man's agitated and worried look as he used one hand to button his coat while glancing around the Red Square in all directions.

"Target Acquired." Jonny reported.

"Confirm Target." Temple stated.

"Target Confirmed." Jonny breathed.

"Clear to engage." Temple remarked. Jonny heard a hint of fatherly pride in Temple's voice when he added, "Take him out, Hotshot."

Keeping his eye on the man, Jonny steadied his breathing as his firing finger rest delicately on the trigger of his high powered PSG-1 Sniper Rifle, complete with bi-pod and sound suppressor.

As the man glanced about, his gaze wandered across the Square. Jonny watched and to the young blonde, it appeared the man was staring right at him. Jonny knew it was foolish, but the feeling was still ominous and rattled his nerves as he stared down the scope, watching his target stare right back.

Inhaling, Jonny paused, then squeezed the trigger. He felt the recoil push against his shoulder and heard the faint report of the round leaving the end of the barrel. At almost the exact same moment he watched as his target's chest caved backwards, the round penetrating. Even at such a distance Jonny could see the man grimace before he dropped the suitcase. Jonny fired again and watched as the man's head whipped backwards, a stream of bright red blood flinging through the otherwise dreary scenery. The target hit the cold, hard stone of the Red Square dead.

"Target eliminated." Jonny reported. "Confirm."

Temple smirked. He had watched the entire scene through his binoculars. With a nod, he kept his eyes on the sight and waited till he saw a slender woman walking towards the dead man. She was dressed in a long pea-coat and a thick scarf draped around her neck and mouth. Her long flowing hair was dark and blowing about in the wind. Reaching the dead man, she didn't slow her stride as she bent slightly at the knees, picked up the briefcase, and continued walking as if nothing had happened.

"Package secured." Temple stated. "Let's go."

Pushing himself up, Jonny lifted himself off of the mat and fell in step behind Temple, leaving the weapon behind; another crew would come and collect the weapon and other sniping equipment.

Temple stopped. Turning back to the scene for a moment, he raised his binoculars to his eyes. Jonny saw a dark frown spread across Temple's face, his brow furrowing with displeasure. "Fuck."

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, Temple lowered the binoculars. "Nothing important. Let's get out of here before it becomes a mad house down there."

Temple couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of his former colleague, the linguist Terry Roberts, in the crowd of confused onlookers near the wall.

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It took a moment to register what was happening, but Roberts snapped out of his frozen shock and sprang into action. Pushing through the startled crowd, he made his way towards the assassinated delegate.

Coming up next to the man, he knelt down, but there was nothing that could be done; he was dead. Roberts recognized him as the man that spoke about the biological warfare threat. The briefcase was gone. Glancing up, he saw a woman hurrying away, metal case in hand.

He had to catch up to her. Taking out his phone, he snapped a quick picture of the dead man to send back to Headquarters. He heard sirens quickly growing louder. People screamed and scrambled, running in confusion due to the chaos. Roberts had to get out of there before the authorities arrived, he couldn't risk being delayed by the police, even if they only wanted his statement as a witness.

Standing, he tucked his phone away. Stepping forward, intending to follow the woman before she disappeared, he glanced briefly towards the river. His heart stopped. the distance was far, so he couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw two figures on the rooftop, but a moment later they were gone.

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"What are you thinking about?"

Jessie stared out the window, watching the scenery zip by. The serenity of the quiet countryside was in stark contrast to the disturbing and painful thoughts that occupied her thoughts. Sighing, she looked towards Phil and saw him watching her with a look of parental concern.

"What?" She asked.

"You look preoccupied. I was wondering what was going through your head." Phil answered patiently.

"Well, obviously Jonny." Jessie responded.

"Obviously. He's at the forefront of all of our minds."

Jessie nodded. She knew her godfather's statement was true. Everyone was dedicated to rescuing Jonny, but as each day passed the pain of the unknown in regards to her love was eating away at the redhead's psyche. Her only hope was that they would find him before whatever experience he was going through changed him from the carefree blonde they all knew and loved.

"What else?" Phil prodded gently.

Jessie's gaze drifted towards the floor. Wringing her hands, she finally looked over. "I have a confession." She started. Pausing, she built up the courage to continue. "I know you told me to let it go in regards to what happened to you and my dad in Afghanistan, but I just couldn't. I had to know what happened that created such a rift between my dad and mom. I don't want the same thing to happen with Jonny and I when he comes home. When I hacked your system, I found the reports from that mission. I read the reports that you and my dad wrote."

Phil was silent for awhile. Jessie waited. Finally, he glanced at her and said. "I already knew you read those files."

"You did?" She didn't know how to respond. "Phil, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I didn't know."

Shaking his head, Phil replied. "It's alright. What do you think you learned from it?"

Jessie gathered her thoughts before responding. "I learned that what happened was horrific to say the least. To watch your friends killed and to think you wouldn't survive must have been torture. I can't fathom how you all were able to continue to fight knowing you would probably die; never to see your loved ones again."

"During the heat of battle you fight for those around you. You don't have time to think about your loved ones back home. Your only thoughts are for those with you."

"I can see why things didn't work out between my parents."

"Can you?" Phil asked, his tone soft. "Your dad tried, Jess. He really did. So did your mom. But your dad doesn't open up so easily. When you mom said she wanted a divorce, your dad did not contest it. Not because he didn't love Estella and not because he didn't want to be with her, but because he knew it was what was best for you. He didn't want to leave you, hon, but he didn't want you seeing him as infallible. Race was scared because he wanted his little girl to have the best life possible and he didn't think he could give you that kind of life at the time. He was battling his own demons and he refused to expose you to his struggles."

Jessie listened intently to Phil's words. "How do you know all this?"

"Your dad told me. He was struggling with his decision. Things settled down eventually and he was able to focus again. When I became the Director of Intelligence One and the position to guard Jonny came up, I made sure Race was assigned the position because I knew he was the best man for the job, but I also knew it would give him stability and allow him to reconnect with you."

"What about you?" Jessie asked.

"What about me?"

"How did you manage, but they did not?"

Phil laughed a little. "What makes you think I managed all that well?"

"Well, you're still married for starters."

"It wasn't easy for my wife and I either. My oldest daughter is a couple years younger than you. She was just a baby when I went to Afghanistan. My wife and I struggled too, hell we still do sometimes. I guess in the end I was able to more easily communicate with Sarah than Race was able to with Estella. I recognized that if I wanted my relationship to last I had to be committed to doing whatever was necessary. I'm not saying your dad wasn't committed, but some people reach their breaking points sooner than others."

"So when it comes to Jonny..."

"You have to be committed one hundred percent. No matter what he's been through, no matter what his physical, mental, or emotional state is at the time we get him back, you have to be willing to help him. The Consortium is drugging these kids and until we know what is in that mixture and how those drugs affect them, it'll be difficult to develop a rehabilitation program for Jonny. One of the men we arrested after the attack on my family, Timothy Sterns, was vicious. He was completely overtaken by the drug, but he was also with The Consortium much longer than the other man. Jonny is a fighter, I don't think he'll be taken as easily as Timothy Sterns."

"So what are some of the things you do to make it work?" Jessie asked. "I really want to know so I can be prepared when Jonny is back in my arms."

Phil nodded. "I don't travel nearly as much as I used to. But when I do or when things like this investigation come up, I recognize that my absence causes a lot of strife for my family. My youngest daughter is deaf and it's hard enough taking care of her with the two of us, but when I leave my wife has to do everything. Of course Marissa helps, but she has her own things she focuses on as well. When my daughter Jenny gets upset or scared, she takes her hearing aids out so she can't hear anything. Sometimes she hides them and it makes communicating with her next to impossible because she won't sign back. It frustrates my wife because she knows Jenny does it because she's upset that I'm not home at night. She thinks something happened to me. So when I do get home I spend as much time as it takes making it up to all of them."

"How?"

Phil smirked. "However I have to. Whatever it takes. And that's what you have to be prepared to do with Jonny...whatever it takes. I'd say patience is key. Which I know will be hard for a Bannon."

Jessie snickered at his last sentence. "I understand. Phil, I appreciate you sharing with me. I can't imagine it's easy for you risking your life for someone else's family."

"Jessie, I consider you my family. I know Race would do the same for me if the situation was reversed. And Benton is a good man who has suffered long enough. He doesn't deserve everything that's happened to him and it pains me to see how this is destroying him. I'll do whatever is necessary to get Jonny back for him."

"Agreed. Doctor Quest has been such a role model to me. Spending all those years with my mom definitely laid the foundation for my interests in the earth sciences, but it was Doctor Quest that really solidified my passion for science and technology. He's an amazing individual. And I love his son. I'm in love with Jonny."

"I know you are." Phil said softly. "Why don't you try and get some sleep. It's getting late and I'll pull over at the next rest area so we can both get some rest, but there's no reason for you to stay up."

"I'll try." Jessie smiled. "Thank you, Phil. For everything."

With a nod, Phil acknowledged the young redhead. Jessie felt a wave of relief wash over her, the conversation helped to easy her troubled mind and her eyelids were suddenly heavy. Leaning the seat back a bit, she yawned and closed her eyes.

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"You're sure this place is safe?" Race asked. He followed Jade through the door of a little farm house located in the Northern countryside outside of Milan, Italy.

"It's one of my safe houses." Jade answered confidently. "I know it's good."

"I need to get in touch with Phil and let him know what's going on. I need a resupply too." Race stated, kicking the door closed behind him and pulling out his phone.

Jade stepped back to him. Grabbing his hands in hers, she prevented him from making the call. "Race, we should stop and think about this for a minute."

Tilting his head, he looked at her with a hint of confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"How do we know for sure that contacting Corbin is the right move?"

Eyes narrowing, he pursued his lips together. "What are you implying?"

Jade shook her head, "I'm not implying anything, Race. We just need to make sure we know who we can trust at this point."

"We can trust Phil."

"Race," Jade started.

"Look, I know the two of you don't get along, but I have zero reason to ever question Corbin's loyalty, dedication, or willingness to do his job. He's a professional through and through."

"I'm not saying he's not, but we both know that he can react hastily."

"I've already contacted him and if I don't contact him again, he's going to implement our contingency plan. In fact, he probably already did."

"Which is?"

"That's between he and I." Race answered.

"Now you're acting like you don't trust me, handsome." Jade mused, stroking his hands suggestively.

Race pulled back. "Stop. I need to think for a minute."

Jade sighed heavily. She stepped away, deeper into the house. "I'm surprised at you, Bannon."

"What do you want me to say, Jade? Martucci obviously knew we were up to something. He may not have known who I was, but we have to assume he'll find out when he reports back to The Consortium. We don't have a lot of time."

"If you tell Corbin that I'm with you, we'll lose our edge."

"How so? I hate to say it like this, but at this time I doubt Corbin will really care that you're helping. He's an intelligence operative first and foremost and he recognizes the necessity of using every available asset in one's arsenal."

"He'll try and tell you to get rid of me. He only trusts me when it suits his needs."

"Would you knock this shit off? Frankly, I don't give a damn right now whether or not you and Phil get along. Phil's my friend and like I said, an intelligence operative, a damn fine one too, if not one of the best. I trust him unconditionally, so drop it. I need to figure out the next step in finding Jonny. So unless you have some information you haven't shared with me yet, I need to contact Corbin and Intelligence One."

"Give me a couple hours." Jade replied, knowing the conversation was done, at least for the time being. "If I can't get anything then you can contact Phil. Deal?"

Exhaling, Race nodded. "Fine. I'm going to take a shower. I hope there's some clean clothes and a laptop lying around. We can pour through these files after you talk to your contact."

"Okay," Jade lowered her eyes. When Race stepped around her, she reached out and placed a light hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Race. I shouldn't have questioned you. I guess I'm still shaken up by what Martucci did to you and I don't want to see you hurt again."

Sighing, Race nodded. "It's okay. I just need to unwind for a bit. A shower and some food should help."

Jade watched as he disappeared through the front room threshold in search of the bathroom.

She waited until she heard the water running then went to the kitchen. Opening one of the drawers, she withdrew a cell phone, turned it on and when it was ready, she made her call.

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"We're in the middle of nowhere." Jessie grumbled. Dawn neared and the sky was still overcast and bleak, the darkness turning to a visible grey as the sun attempted to peak through the cover of clouds; so far it had been unsuccessful. She had lost count of the number of corn fields and distant farm houses they passed. She couldn't remember the last time a vehicle occupied the road at the same time as them.

They had driven throughout the night. The only stops had been for gas, breaks, food, and a few hours of sleep at a deserted rest stop along the route. Phil hadn't given her any details of where he was taking her other than mentioning Ohio. She did note that he had driven the entire route without the aid of a map or GPS, causing her to wonder how many times he must have made the trip in the past.

"Space and privacy are key to what we do when training our covert operators." Phil replied as he turned the car onto an unmarked gravel road.

A few miles down the windy, bumpy road, Jessie asked. "Is this Government land?"

Phil gave her a look and turned the side of his mouth up in a smile. "No."

"But you operate and train here?"

"Yes. You wouldn't know it if you saw the deed, but this land belongs to me." Phil answered.

Jessie chuckled a little, "You own land in...Ohio? I thought you were from D.C."

"I live and work in D.C. that doesn't mean that's where I'm from. My parents met at Wright-Pat."

"Wright-Pat?"

"Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. My father was in the Army and was at the base for a joint conference. My mother worked there as a civilian. This land belonged to her parents and they left it to me in their will. Of course my mother and sister weren't happy with what I turned it in to, but at least my father kind of understood the reasoning behind it."

"Wait...you have a sister?"

Phil laughed, "There's a lot you seem to not know about your godfather, Jess. Yes, I have a sister. She lives in Tampa. We were Army brats, growing up all over the world. In fact, my sister was born in Germany and I was born in Alaska. But whenever we were in the states we would visit our grandparents at this farm in the summertime."

"So what do you do here?"

Phil answered, "We run training simulations. We also run shoot houses and small arms ranges here without worry of interference."

"You're the Government, Phil, who would interfere with you?" Jessie joked.

Phil laughed as he pulled up to an old farmhouse and parked. "Name any yahoo militia or local anti-government nutcase and that's who we have to worry about. They may not know exactly who we are, but they do know how to spot a Fed."

Phil parked in the circle drive in front of the house. Climbing out of the vehicle, Jessie stretched, inhaling a lungful of cold, country air. Looking around, she took in the peacefulness of the scenery. Even with the overcast sky, the property had an aura of tranquility about it, making it hard for her to believe Intelligence operatives would train here. The house was a quaint three story structure with white shudders around the windows, a wraparound porch, and a large chimney that was currently expelling a thick haze of smoke.

A hundred yards or so to her left was a thick wood line that stretched around the back of the house. To her right was a large barn. She had to chuckle a little at the sight of the structure, painted a deep red with white trim, giving it the appearance of a barn one would call to mind when thinking about classic Americana. A green and yellow John Deere tractor was parked to the right of the barn. Beyond the structure was a field and she could see random barrels of hay rolled up and placed throughout. A smell caused her nostrils to curl up.

"Is this a working farm?" Jessie asked.

"It is." Phil replied. He was rummaging through the trunk of the car. "You can't see it from here, but behind the house is a horse barn. We have three horses. The pasture is out beyond the rear wood line. When we aren't training, this farm grows hay and soybeans."

"And here I thought you made all your money from being a high paid Government employee." Jessie teased playfully.

Phil smirked, but didn't give her a direct reply. In fact, Jessie really had no idea how much money Phil really made, but she'd been to his house in D.C. a few times in the past. He lived in a upper class neighborhood and Jessie knew his children went to private schools. His home was nowhere near the size of Doctor Quest's mansion, but it was large and completely modern, with a huge kitchen, an in-ground swimming pool, three car garage and finished basement.

"Where are the ranges you mentioned?" She asked, ready to get to work.

"You'll see them soon enough."

"Did my dad ever train here?" The farm definitely peaked Jessie's curiosity about her father's time with Intelligence One.

"He has been here a number of times, but not since he left to work for Doctor Quest full time." Phil replied. Jessie picked up on the subtle tone of Phil's statement; he obviously still missed having her father working for him, if for no other reason than not getting to see one of his best friends and Jessie more often.

She slung her backpack over one shoulder and Phil retrieved two gym bags from the trunk of the sedan as the front door of the house opened and a portly woman emerged.

Hobbling down the steps, she hugged Phil as he set the bags down and hugged her back. Jessie wondered just how many people either owed their lives or their loved ones lives to Corbin and his organization.

"You made it." The woman beamed as Phil pulled away and picked up the bags again.

"Was there ever any doubt? We all knew Bannon here wouldn't back down." Phil smiled as he jerked his head at Jessie.

Jessie studied the woman with a keen eye. She appeared to be in her mid to late sixties, making Jessie wonder who the woman was. Her hair was full and still retained most of its auburn hue, but for a few strands that had turned white. Her eyes were large and warm, their green shine standing out in the grey bleakness of the Ohio morning. Her clothing was simple, yet practical and Jessie imagined she actively engaged in the upkeep and care of the property.

"So this is Roger's daughter? She's looks so much like him and her mother." The woman said. "My name is Elise, honey, so call me Elise. Come in out of the cold. I'll have breakfast prepared momentarily."

Ushering the duo up the steps, Elise headed inside as Phil asked, "Are we the first to arrive?"

Elise nodded, "The others should be here later this morning."

"Others?" Jessie stopped. "You said we were working alone."

"We are," Phil replied as he set the bags down in the foyer. Jessie heard the clinking of metal on metal from one as it touched the floor. "But I can't train you by myself in such a short amount of time. Three retired I-1 operatives are joining us. All they know, and all they will know, is that you are here for training, nothing about a follow-on mission. Elise doesn't even know about that."

Jessie bit her lip as she studied him. "I don't like surprises, Phil."

"What did I tell you?" He smiled. "This world is not what you were expecting. Even from the get-go you need to learn to quickly adapt and overcome. Challenges, obstacles, unknowns will always be thrown your way. You need to learn to think on your feet, react, and move accordingly. We're going to throw you some curveballs during your time here, so be prepared to react to the unexpected."

Jessie nodded, beginning to understand. A strong smell of bacon and coffee flittered down the hall, causing her stomach to remind her that she hadn't eaten since the evening prior. Chuckling, Phil took Jessie's backpack and withdrew the handgun he'd given her back in Maine. He tossed the bag on top of the two he had brought in and handed her the pistol.

"From now on this stays on you at all times."

"Are we not safe here?" She asked.

He handed her a paddle holster from one of the gym bags' side pockets. "We are, but you need to get used to having that on your person. You need to be comfortable with its weight as it becomes nothing more than another part of you. You'll move awkwardly at first until you're used to it and those awkward movements are like glaring signals to enemy agents that you are armed. You also don't want to be caught off guard and unaware as a potential threat could sneak up on you at any time."

Jessie paused; she was pretty sure he was referring to the time her mother had walked into his office and shot him. She decided to let it go as there was no point in rehashing old, painful memories.

"Come on," He headed towards the back of the house where Elise had disappeared. Waving a hand at her to follow he spoke. "Let's get some breakfast before we begin. It'll be a long day and you'll need your strength."

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 **To Be Continued...**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **Author's Note: A slight edit was made to Chapter 13 in the Jonny and Temple scene.**

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After breakfast, Jessie went to unpack. Elise showed her the way and had already set out a number of outfits and footwear, practical for a number of different training scenarios from tactical and shooting to physical fitness.

"The others should be arriving soon," Elise set some towels on the bed for Jessie. "The bathroom is through that door. You'll probably want to freshen up before they arrive. You've had a long trip."

"Thank you, Elise." Jessie tossed her backpack on the bed. Stretching her arms over her head, she asked, "Do you know what I should expect over the next few days?"

The old woman put on a kind smile. Her warm eyes gazed at Jessie, but she shook her head, "I do not. My only word of advice would be to listen to what these Agents say, they know what they are doing. Even if you do not agree. They will test you to see how far they can push you. Stress can be healthy. One thing you will quickly learn about Phil and his Agents is that they are masters at their craft; at being intelligence operatives. They will get inside your head, that is what they do. So try to remember that when it seems like you want to give up."

Jessie nodded, trying to keep her features neutral. She didn't want to give the impression she was nervous. "Thanks, Elise."

"Of course, sweetie. Take your time. We'll be downstairs." Elise departed, closing the door behind her as she did.

Jessie glanced about the bedroom. The room was at the back of the house, with two large windows with a view of the horse barn and the woods beyond; Jessie couldn't see anything further out, the view obscured by the tops of the trees, most of which had only recently begun to shed their leaves as fall silently crept closer. Elegant wood floors, probably original to the house, ran throughout and a large area rug adorned most of the room's floor. Two doors sat in the far wall opposite the bed. One led to the bathroom Elise had indicated and the other was a small closet.

The full size bed was tucked away into the far corner of the room, with only enough room on the far side to maneuver to the nightstand on that side of the bed. The only other pieces of furniture was a second nightstand, a long dresser, an additional wardrobe to compliment the small closet, and a plush reading chair. The room was definitely cozy and inviting.

Grabbing the towels, Jessie made her way towards the bathroom. After the long, overnight drive, she was definitely in need of a good, hot shower.

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"They have some nerve." Estella grumbled. Tossing her cell phone down onto the kitchen island, the redhead rubbed her tired eyes. She'd barely slept since Agent Dugger had informed her and Doctor Quest about Jessie's whereabouts.

"While I do not necessarily agree with their tactics, I imagine Race and Phil planned this meticulously. They knew you wouldn't let Jessie leave willingly, regardless of their good intentions." Benton stated. He was trying to be sympathetic to Estella's plight, he too felt the actions of her ex-husband and former employer were somewhat unorthodox.

"The least Phil could do is answer his damn phone." Estella replied. "I swear he's doing this to get back at me."

Benton didn't agree. Shaking his head, he replied with a reassuring tone, "I doubt this has anything to do with that, Estella."

"I can't stand my daughter being exposed to such a life."

"Jessie went with him of her own free will, Estella. You know she wouldn't have left unless she wanted. My guess is Phil knew Jessie would venture out on her own to help in the search for my son and concluded she would be safer with him than out on her own."

"I suppose." Estella mused. She decided to change the subject for now. "When does Hadji's flight arrive?"

"The day after tomorrow." Benton answered. "He was delayed due to a last minute economic issue that arose in Bangalore. He wanted to see it resolved before he left."

"Well that will be good."

Benton stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Yes, I could use his help in the lab."

"Still no luck with the mixture?"

Benton frowned, "Besides procaine I haven't been able to separate the rest of the components. I do suspect at least one of the other components is a liquid form of LSD. The Consortium did their homework when creating this drug. I don't want to imagine Jonny being exposed to this stuff."

"I'm truly sorry, Benton. If only we'd gotten to him before he disappeared."

"We got Jessie and we will get Jonny."

"And now Jessie is gone again." Estella mumbled, but loud enough for Benton to hear.

"Estella, no matter where Jessie is, she's safe. We cannot say the same for my child." His tone was harsher than he wanted, but sometimes Estella's depressive moods grated on his nerves.

Estella picked up on his tone, "I'm sorry, Benton, I didn't mean it like that."

Sighing, Benton exhaled. "I know you didn't, Estella. I'm heading back to the lab."

Nodding, Estella stood. "I need to go into town later this afternoon. I'll come see you before I go."

Benton gave a curt nod then left, taking his tablet and coffee with him. Estella departed the kitchen, heading towards her room. Once inside, she shut the door and sat down on the bed. The tears came immediately; she was a wreck.

Wiping her cheeks, her eyes wandered to the nightstand. Shaking her head, she slid over and opened the top drawer. Reaching inside, she pulled out a bottle of pills. She had refilled her prescription in town once she'd arrived back in Maine, but until now she had resisted the urge to partake. Yet, things were different now; Jonny was still missing, Benton was consumed by his work, Race was gone and now Jessie had left.

"Just a couple to dull the pain." Estella stated aloud, convincing herself.

Opening the bottle, she shook two pills into her hand then popped them into her mouth. Swallowing hard, she shut her eyes, telling herself over and over in her head that it was what she needed.

Eventually, she fell back onto the bed and drifted off to sleep.

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"What's going on?" Jonny asked. They'd arrive back at the safe house without any confrontation between themselves and the police, however ever since they'd arrived Temple was agitated.

"I need to talk to the board." Greg groaned.

"What did you see when you looked back into the crowd?" Jonny inquired. "Who did you see?"

Temple paused. His eyes narrowed as he studied his protégé. "Don't concern yourself with that."

"Hell, Greg," Jonny shouted. "I'm tired of you keeping me in the dark all the time. I let it go last time, but this is fucking getting out of hand."

"Watch your tone, Hotshot." Temple growled.

"Fuck that. If you're going to act like an asshole after every mission then I'm done with this shit." To make his point, Jonny grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

Temple was on him in a heartbeat. Grabbing the rebellious youth by the shoulder, Temple flung Jonny backwards. Jonny staggered, but kept his footing.

"You'll do what I say, when I say it, Hotshot." Temple jammed a finger into Jonny's chest. "You need to learn your place."

Jonny remained defiant. "If my place is being your fucking lackey and wingman at the whorehouse then maybe The Consortium isn't the right place for me. Or perhaps I can talk to the board myself and get a better partner."

Temple fumed. "There is no one better than me."

"Arrogant fuck." Jonny spat, trying to push passed his mentor.

"You snot-nosed little brat." Greg screamed. He stepped into Jonny's path, cutting off his escape and raised his hand.

"Do it." Jonny challenged. "Show me what a badass you really are."

Shaking Temple snarled, but eventually lowered his hand. Jonny exhaled in relief.

"Why are you challenging me, Hotshot? What's going on in that head of yours?" Temple finally asked after he composed himself.

"I want to know what's really going on here." Jonny answered, but the edge in his voice was gone. He was glad Temple had backed off because Jonny had no intention of walking out on the only person that cared for him. "Maybe killing random people is easy for a man like you, but it's not for me."

"Sit down." Temple ordered. When Jonny crossed his arms over his chest, Temple rolled his eyes and said, "Would you just sit down, please?"

Jonny couldn't remember if he'd ever heard Temple use that word before. Sighing, he uncrossed his arms and went and sat on the couch.

When Temple was convinced the teen wasn't going to move, he lit a cigarette and took a seat in a chair across from Jonny. "The Consortium is planning something big."

"That tells me nothing." Jonny retorted with a sneer.

"Remember the delivery job to Van Brandt?" When Jonny nodded, Temple continued. "Van Brandt is working on weapon that, if successful, would enable The Consortium to take control in a number of contested and war-torn regions throughout the world. Individually those regions mean nothing, but if we can seize power simultaneously without the U.N. or I-1 knowing about it, we'll be in a position to take on more powerful enemies."

"What kind of weapon?" Jonny asked.

"The devastating kind." Temple replied cryptically. "The man at the Red Square. We needed to take him out because he carried a formula that could combat our weapon. Now that we have possession of his briefcase we have no need to worry about it falling into the hands of our enemies. Enemies that seem to be appearing around every fucking corner."

"Who did you see at the Square?"

Temple shook his head and put out his smoke. "I can't be sure if it was who I thought, but there was a man there that I think works for Intelligence One."

"Who?"

"You probably don't know him. He's a linguist named Roberts. But he's no threat. He's not a field agent like Bannon." Temple stated.

"I know Agent Roberts." Jonny stroked his chin in thought. "I agree, he's not a threat."

"But if he becomes one…" Temple started.

Jonny shook his head. "You want to kill Roberts, have at it. I'm not ready to put a bullet in a man I know."

Temple wanted to say more, but decided to let the matter rest. If Roberts did reappear and if he did threaten their operation, Temple would dispose of the linguist himself.

"So what now?" Jonny finally asked, breaking the silence that had engulfed the room again.

"We'll be heading out in a few days." Temple stated matter-of-factly. "So we have some time to relax."

Groaning, Jonny rolled his eyes, "I really don't feel like going out to the whorehouse again tonight, Greg."

Standing, Temple lit another cigarette then smirked at Jonny. "I have something else in mind for you, Hotshot."

Jonny gave Temple a sideways glance, "Yeah? Like what?"

"Grab your coat and let's go. I'll show you." Temple smiled.

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With a hot shower and a fresh set of clothes, Jessie felt refreshed. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, she saw it was approaching noon; time felt like it was flying. Securing the holster to her belt, Jessie pulled a large dark blue sweatshirt on over her head and headed downstairs.

Seated around the rectangular kitchen table was Phil and three other people, two men and one woman. Elise was not present.

Jessie noted that Phil had also taken the time to freshen up, having showered, shaved and change clothes. He was wearing leather combat boots, jeans, and a black polo shirt. Jessie saw that he, just like her, was armed; his weapon affixed to his belt on his right hip. The other three were armed too.

Jessie took a seat, studying the group that studied her. To Phil's immediate right sat a man with thinning hair, a hawk like nose and deep set eyes. His face was gentle, but the lines etched across his brow and around his eyes revealed years of stress. He wore thin rimmed glasses, a white button down shirt and jeans.

Next to him was a light skinned African-American woman that appeared around Phil's or her father's age. Her hair was long and wavy, her eyes large and brown, and she had a sweet smile on her lips, studying Jessie closely.

The third man stood off near the kitchen counter. He cradled a cup of coffee in his hands and from his looks was older than everyone at the table. He held his right arm snug against his body and Jessie assumed he had limited mobility in the limb, probably caused by an old injury or wound. His features were neutral and there was nothing distinguishing about his looks. He was the type of man you'd see in a crowd and forget moments after he passed; Jessie assumed it was a look that was ideal for his line of work.

"How's the room? Did Elise get you everything you needed?" Phil asked between sips of coffee.

"The room is nice and yes, Elise took care of everything." Jessie answered truthfully.

"Good," Phil replied. Setting down his coffee, he leaned forward and said, "So I assume you're ready to get started?"

"Most definitely." Jessie replied. She had never been one to succumb to nervous jitters, but at the moment she felt like she was being studied like some sort of test subject. Jessie placed her hands in her lap, concentrating her focus on Phil since he was the only person present that she actually knew.

Phil nodded to his companion seated next to him. "This is Anthony Milner."

Milner cocked his head at Jessie, smiling a little. Jessie nodded back.

Next, Phil gestured towards the woman. "Agent Paulina Blake."

"Ma'am." Jessie mumbled.

Gesturing towards the last man, Phil smiled, "That's Bradley Pickett back there being anti-social as always."

A grunt emanated from Pickett's mouth, causing the others to chuckle at the man's discomfort. "You can call me Brad." He said eventually.

"Yes, Sir." Jessie nodded.

"I said Brad, not Sir." Pickett grumbled again. He set his coffee mug down and picked up a manila envelope from the counter and tossed it at Jessie.

Catching the package Jessie gave Phil a curious look before she opened it. Dumping the contents onto the table she began to catalogue the contents; a passport, driver's license, credit cards all in the name Jessica McGowan. The passport and drivers license had her photo on them, in fact to Jessie it appeared they were the photos from her real passport and license. A large stack of American and foreign currency was rubber-banded together; she'd count it later. There was a number of papers folded in half. Opening them Jessie gave the documents a brief skim. The last item was an older model smart-phone with accompanying charger.

"This is the new you, Jessie." Phil explained when he saw Jessie was done examining everything. "You need to become intimately familiar with the information in that packet. Do not discount any data, even if you think it's not relevant."

"Okay," Jessie stated. "What else?"

"The rest of today you'll spend with Blake and Pickett. They'll teach you the finer points of covert intelligence work. Being well rounded is what makes you successful in this line of work. Not just being able to shoot or drive or observe; you have to be able to adapt to the situation and create the persona necessary to achieve your goals. One situation may call for anonymity, thus you'll need to blend in with your surroundings. In another circumstance you might very well want people to notice you."

"You're already at a disadvantage, Jessie," Blake stated. Her voice was smooth with a hint of what Jessie placed as a Southern accent, "your hair makes you stand out. Add your looks on top of that and people will notice you."

Jessie blushed heavily at the woman's compliment. "So how do I make myself go unnoticed?"

"That's what they are going to teach you." Phil stood. Jessie watched him run his hand over his chest and she figured it was a habit that was so ingrained into his behavior that he did it without thinking anymore, even when he wasn't wearing a suit and tie.

She smiled at his obliviousness, but to her surprise he narrowed his eyes and asked, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Jessie remarked, looking away.

"I told you during the car ride down here, your dad has taught you more than you realize. Most of his tutelage was so you could protect yourself from threats or attacks, but you've picked up on other bits and pieces from him too, even if you don't realize it just yet. You think I just made this gesture out of habit?" He asked, running his hand on his chest again.

Jessie gawked a little, she didn't realize he was testing her already. "I didn't think..."

"Your training has already begun." Phil said. "Of course I made that gesture on purpose. It's something I do all the time and you know that. I wanted to see how you would react and it was exactly how I expected you would."

"What does that mean?"

"If you're observing someone you cannot give away any hints that you are watching him or her." Blake stated.

"You knew of Corbin's tendency to smooth his tie when he stands. It's those bits of information that can help you identify a subject or decipher a person's mood and behavior, thus anticipating how he or she might be poised to act." Pickett added, coming to stand next to Corbin. "Phil does that when he's losing his patience. But he also does it when he knows he's got his subject cornered. The trick is figuring out which reason is causing the target to react in certain ways."

"Gestures are tell tale clues and its imperative you quickly recognize them and react accordingly." Phil remarked. "What you cannot do is exactly what you did."

"I smiled." Jessie was beginning to understand her mistake.

"You indicated to me that you were watching what I was doing." Phil nodded. "You do that in the field and your target sees you, he knows he's being watched and you've just blown your cover and possible jeopardized your operation. Worst case scenario, you end up dead. Are you beginning to understand?"

Jessie nodded sheepishly. She felt behind the curve already.

"Good." Phil said. "Milner and I have some things we need to take care of. Like I said, Blake and Pickett have you for the rest of the day. We'll talk more at dinner and review what you've learned so far."

"Okay. See you later." Jessie remarked.

As he stepped away, Phil placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. He nodded at his Agents then with Milner right in step, the two men departed the kitchen, leaving Jessie to continue her training.

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"So did you get in touch with your contact?" Race asked. He'd showered, but had to settle for dressing in his old pants and undershirt until he could get his hands on some new clothing.

Jade nodded. Race found her in the front room, sipping a glass of wine, a look of excitement upon her face. The wine bottle and a second glass were waiting for him on the side table. "I did. It'll take some time, but I've already placed my order with him for some clothing, weapons, cash, and new identities."

"How long?" Race asked. He picked up the bottle of wine and poured a glass for himself.

"A day, maybe two." Jade responded.

"I can't wait that long." Race replied. He set the glass down and pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Race, wait. We need to trust my guy. If he knew he was helping Intelligence One he'd balk."

"Why should I care about that?" Race asked suspiciously.

"Because he can get us not only the supplies we need, but information too. We can squeeze him for information at the meet, but if you call in your buddies now, he'll run."

"So for two days we just sit and wait? While Jonny is still out there?" Race shook his head. "I don't like that plan, Jade."

"Well, it's the best we have at the moment, wouldn't you say? My guy can produce a lot faster than your people can since I assume they are all back stateside."

"We have people over here." Race remarked, but kept his comment vague.

"Of that I have no doubt, handsome." Jade purred. "But you said it yourself, you need time to relax and think. Two days won't matter in the long run and it'll give us time to go through Martucci's files and see if we can figure out our own lead in the event my guy doesn't know anything."

Race rubbed the back of his head. He didn't like it, but he had to trust Jade. She'd helped him thus far and while in the past her interests may have conflicted with Race's, Jade had always done right by Jonny. Right now, Race had no reason to doubt that Jade's desire to help wasn't rooted in anything more than genuine concern for Jonny and Race.

Sighing, he said, "See if your guy can deliver sooner, but for now I'll give you the two days. After that or if I don't like the way things are headed, we do things my way. If you can't agree to that, then we might as well part ways now."

Jade nodded, "Relax, handsome. Things will work out, you'll see."

Race opened his mouth to counter, but Jade raised a hand to continue, "But if in two days I can't deliver for you, then I agree we can contact I-1 and go from there."

Race's pursed his lips together. He wasn't the type of man that could sit around doing nothing, but in a way Jade made a number of good points. He'd been going non-stop for weeks, months if he went all the way back to the incident in Pennsylvania. He could use some time to unwind and get some real sleep. Perhaps with a clear head, he'd be able to see things from a different angle, maybe key in on something he may have overlooked in his non-stop hasty approach to finding Jonny.

Watching her on again off again love interest, Jade saw the battle raging within Race's mind as it played out on his facial features. She knew Race couldn't stand sitting around, but she also knew he was debating on how much he should trust her at the moment. Not wanting to lose her edge with him, Jade set her glass down and stood.

She sauntered over to him seductively and sat down lightly on his lap, straddling his legs. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Jade gazed into Race's eyes and smiled. Leaning forward, her lips inches from his, she breathed, "I said you should relax."

Race placed his hands on her hips, massaging her gently, generating a soft pleasurable moan from her lips. She rocked against him, leaning forward, pressing her body against his. Jade pressed her lips to his, gently kissing him for a brief second. Pulling back, she purred, "Let me help you relax."

She pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it playfully to the floor. She shuddered at the sight of his body. Race had always taken great pride in staying in perfect shape, fitness key to his ability to perform his job. Her hands moved down his chest, her fingers briefly grazing the wounds Martucci's torture session had produced. For some reason, the touch exhilarated Jade. Race felt her desire and tightened his grip on her hips as Jade leaned back down and kissed him deeply and passionately.

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Jonny was overwhelmed by the stench of the filthy alley Temple was currently leading him down. Even in the late hours of the cold Russian night, Moscow's nightlife was alive. A number of bars and restaurants were still open and crowded, to include the eatery he and Temple had just left. Jonny found the culture of the former Soviet Union to be invigorating and enlightening, the polar opposite of what he'd imagined a country like Russia, still recovering from its downfall, would really be like.

Most of the people were friendly and recognized him as a non-Russian, even though Temple had taught him a few words to help him get by.

"Where are we going now?" Jonny asked as the sounds of the street began to fade, replaced by the growing drone of heavy metal music.

"We're here now." Temple tossed his cigarette to the ground and banged his fist on an unmarked metal door at the far end of the alley.

Almost immediately, the door opened a crack and Temple exchanged a few Russian words with the faceless person that had opened it. With a hand on the door, Temple pushed the door open as the man behind it pulled it and stepped aside.

Cocking his head at Jonny, Temple smiled. "Come on, Hotshot."

Jonny followed. He gave the man at the door a quick once over. He was thin, but his eyes were hard and Jonny saw the telltale sign of a handgun affixed to his belt. Stepping past him without a word, Jonny came up next to Temple and asked, "So do you ever frequent normal establishments?"

"Normal?" Temple huffed.

"Yeah, like Wal-Mart or Applebee's. Places where people generally aren't armed criminals ready to slit your throat for an eight ball of coke or twenty bucks?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Temple grinned. "And besides, have you seen some of the Wal-Marts in America? Some of those people would gut you for five bucks."

"Good point. And I hate Applebee's anyways." Jonny laughed.

A light at the end of the dark hallway drew Jonny's gaze forward. The place still stunk, but not nearly as bad as the alleyway and the heavy metal music grew louder, but not so loud that he couldn't converse with his partner. He also heard a strange buzzing noise.

Stepping into the back room, Jonny saw they were in a tattoo parlor. Temple watched his mentee's face as Jonny studied the room. The walls and counter were covered in photographs of tattoos and other hand drawn artwork. Behind the counter, Jonny saw two chairs, one currently occupied by a young man getting work done on his leg. To Jonny's surprise the artist was wearing gloves and using all the proper tools and following procedures. For some reason Jonny assumed this place wouldn't be up to code.

Temple must have seen Jonny's shock. Leaning down, he placed a hand on the back of his neck and said, "Don't worry, kid. I'm not going to take you some place that's not up to snuff."

Jonny nodded, his eyes wandered the room, studying the pictures with admiration; the artwork was on par with any he'd seen in the states.

"What do you want?" Temple asked.

"You know, Greg, I really like that scorpion tat you have." Jonny mused. "And you did bring me up in the desert, so…"

"We can get you something similar to mine, but make it unique to you if you want." Greg replied, his tone fatherly once again.

A man approached and stepped around the counter. He gave Greg a nod. "What do you want tonight, Gregory?"

He was young, with a bald head, a goatee that was neatly trimmed and arms covered in tattoos. His shirt was emblazoned with some metal band's logo, but it was so obscure Jonny couldn't make out the name of the band.

"My man here wants a scorpion tat, but make it special for him." Greg replied with a gesture at Jonny.

"Where do you want it?" The artist asked.

"Upper arm, like his." Jonny pointed at Greg's massive bicep.

The artist nodded then looked at Temple. "I can give him something nice. I assume this goes on the account?"

"You assume correctly, Vlad."

"My name is not Vlad." The artist answered with a laugh.

"Whatever." Greg grumbled lightheartedly.

"I think you are starting to get forgetful, Gregory. Whether due to your old age or other…things." Vlad replied as he turned back and waved at Jonny to follow him, causing Temple to scowl.

"What did he mean by that?" Jonny asked.

"Nothing. He's just being insolent, that's all." Greg replied. "Come on, let's get you taken care of. Try not to squirm or cry like a little girl, Hotshot." He added playfully, diverting Jonny's attention back onto the reason they were at the parlor to begin with.

"I won't." Jonny smirked. "Give me a little credit, Temple."

"I give you credit, my boy. You've done a phenomenal job so far and this is just a small token of our appreciation. When we meet the board you'll get the tat that matters." Temple tapped his own arm, indicating his strange tattoo associated with The Consortium.

"Looking forward to it." Jonny pulled his shirt off and took a seat in Vlad's chair.

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Rubbing her eyes, Jessie yawned. She'd been at it all afternoon, assimilating so much information from the two Agents that she wasn't sure how she'd remember everything they were attempting to teach her.

One moment they'd give her tips on how to make herself invisible, but the next they'd talk about using her "assets" to get what she wanted. It was information overload and she still didn't have her entire backstory memorized.

Pickett was in the process of explaining the finer points of disappearing into a crowd when the backdoor opened and Corbin and Milner entered.

Jessie groaned with relief as Pickett paused in his monologue; the man knew his stuff, but he could go on and on without stopping for a breath.

Jessie looked up at the two men and noticed they were filthy, Phil more so than Milner. Both men's faces were streaked with oil and sweat, their hands and forearms also covered in dirt and grime. Phil went to wash his hands and Elise came in from the front room at the same time.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked in a stern voice. "You should wash up outside."

"You know this is my house, right?" Phil smirked, but stopped what he was doing.

"And I'm the one responsible for cleaning it and I don't want you filling my kitchen sink with oil and grime."

"Umm…where have you two been all afternoon?" Jessie asked. She hadn't seen either man since they'd left her with Blake and Pickett hours ago.

"We were fixing my tractor." Phil reached for the refrigerator and was quickly intercepted by Elise, who smacked his hand and opened the fridge for him.

Reaching inside he grabbed two beers and handed one to Milner.

"Wait? You brought me here to train me and you're fixing a tractor?" Jessie was flabbergasted.

"That tractor costs more than your car, Jess, and if Elise and her son would just check it out before running it I wouldn't have to fix the damn thing every time I come here." Looking at the old woman he added, "I mean honestly, how hard is it to check under the hood before you start the thing up? It needs a whole new set of sparkplugs and the radiator was bone dry. We had to put in an old one until I can get a replacement."

Elise scoffed, waving a hand for him to move out of her way so she could prepare dinner.

Jessie shook her head in disbelief, but she found herself entertained by the exchange between Corbin and the caretaker; the old woman didn't take any of the Phil's gruff. For Jessie, it was a pleasant break from the hours of grueling instruction and endless bombardment of review questions from Pickett and Blake.

"I'll check in town to see if anyone has one tomorrow morning." Milner stated. He downed the beer in three long gulps. Looking at the other two Agents he asked, "You two ready to go?"

"You aren't staying here?" Jessie asked the trio.

Blake shook her head. "There's not enough room. Generally, we don't stay here during training either since Phil refuses to build a barracks style building for his trainees."

"It'll lower my property value." Phil smirked.

Once the three departed Phil and Jessie returned to the kitchen where Elise had already begun preparing dinner. Using the bottom of his shirt, Phil wiped the grime from his face as best he could. Jessie noticed he moved one arm more cautiously than the other.

"I still have problems," Phil stated when he saw Jessie looking at him with concern. He didn't have to explain anymore, she knew it was the injury caused by Estella. "Especially after being active all day."

"Because you overexert yourself." Elise mumbled from behind. "You know what the doctors said about scar tissue and what happens if you tear the muscles again? Your arm will be useless."

Phil rolled his eyes and made a gesture with his hand about Elise babbling on. Jessie had to cover her mouth to prevent her giggles from escaping.

"Well if you would stop destroying my tractor I wouldn't have to work so hard to fix it." Phil shot back. He finished his beer and stood to get another.

"Men!" Elise proclaimed, moving out of his way so he could get another drink. "Don't make me tell Sarah that you're pushing yourself too hard again."

"Fine." Phil shot back, the threat of his wife knowing what he was doing seemed to be enough to get him to acquiesce. Sitting back down, he opened the beer and looked at Jessie. "So, how did your day go?"

"Busy." Jessie admitted. "It's just so much information to process."

"Like I told you before, this training usually takes six months for most of my people. I've instructed those three to give you the condensed version in about a week."

"That was condensed?" Jessie laughed. Elise set a glass of water down in front of her for which Jessie nodded her thanks.

"The key takeaway is really understanding the situation you find yourself in and acting appropriately. What's immensely important in this case is that you know what was in that folder."

Jessie picked up on Phil's vagueness. He obviously trusted Elise, but didn't want to reveal too many details in front of the old woman.

"Dinner will be ready in about forty five minutes." Elise stated as if she had gotten the hint from Phil's statement. "I'll step out and tend to the horses. Check the oven in twenty five minutes, Phil."

"Okay." Phil replied. "Thanks, Elise."

"Anything for you, sweetie." She replied and kissed him on the side of the head, causing him to pull away with a grin.

After she went out back, Jessie smiled. "Okay, I have to know. Who is she?"

Phil laughed as he took another swig of his beer. "Elise is my wife's Aunt. She moved here after her husband died a few years ago. She's batty, but we love her and she does a great job. She needed something to keep her occupied after he husband passed and she's always enjoyed the country life. It was a perfect fit. Her son, my wife's cousin, lives just outside of Cincinnati and comes to help out when he can, especially during planting and harvest seasons. We also hire local crews to do the farming."

"Wow, who knew." Jessie laughed.

"So we have some time. Tell me what you think was the most important thing you've learned today."

Jessie paused, thinking back on all of her instruction from Blake and Pickett. "I guess like you said, knowing the situation you're in and adapting as needed. Also, always be aware of your surroundings, situational awareness."

Phil nodded. He drummed his fingers on the table and Jessie saw the dirt caked under his fingernails; she'd never seen him so dirty before. He was an entirely different person than the regulation spouting, suit wearing, perfect looking man she'd grown up knowing.

"Tell me about Jessica McGowan." He stated.

"Eighteen years old, grew up in a suburb of Lincoln, Nebraska. Jessica was a star basketball player on her high school's varsity team and received scholarships for both athletics and academics for a number of state schools. Right now, she's travelling abroad for her first year of school."

"Did you enjoy your time in Spain?" Phil asked.

Jessie paused. She didn't remember anything in the file about Spain. "I'm studying in Scotland, not Spain."

Phil shook his head and motioned for her to give him the manila folder. "I didn't ask you where you were studying." He dumped the contents onto the table and picked up the passport. "I asked if you enjoyed your time in Spain."

Flipping through the booklet, he found the appropriate stamp and held it out for Jessie to see. "What did I tell you earlier? Study all of it. Learn all of it. According to this passport, _your passport_ , you traveled to Spain."

Jessie felt defeated. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Jess." Phil replied kindly. "Just listen to what we are teaching you. Your file doesn't have a backstory on Spain, but your passport says you went there. It's one of those things that an adversary can focus in on and trip you up if they have suspicions about you."

Jessie nodded. "You know, Phil, I thought all we would be doing here would be shooting weapons and hand to hand training. I didn't realize there was so much else that went into your profession."

"Oh we will do that, but we can't spend all of our time doing the fun stuff, Jess." Phil smiled. "Your dad made it look easy, that's part of the problem. Bannons always make this shit look easy."

"Not this Bannon apparently." Jessie mumbled.

"You will, trust me, you will." Phil said as he stood and went over to the oven to check on the casserole. "But remember, you're not a Bannon anymore. You're a McGowan."

"Need some help?" Jessie stood, needing to take her mind off of things for a moment.

Phil shook his head. "Tell you what, Jess. Let's call it quits for tonight. You've been through a lot and you can use the rest of tonight to unwind. Later when you go up to bed, take your packet with you and study it before you go to sleep. At least for me, I found that it helps to review those things right before going to sleep. Kind of makes you remember it a little more for some reason."

"Is this another test?" Jessie asked. "Am I supposed to say no?"

Phil chuckled. "No more tests tonight, Jessie. Why don't you go see if Elise needs any help with the horses while I go take a shower? I hate being dirty."

Jessie laughed, "Yep, there's the Phil Corbin I know. Always needing to be pretty."

Phil rolled his eyes. "If one more person calls me pretty I'm going to blow a friggin' gasket."

"See you in a bit for dinner, Phil." Jessie laughed. Phil grumbled and headed towards the stairs. Once she heard him ascending the steps she went outside to find Elise.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 _Snow fell all around them as they gazed upon the magnificence of the Aurora Borealis._

" _What an amazing sight." Jonny exclaimed._

" _Agreed." Jessie nodded._

 _They'd just defeated Ezekiel Rage, a demented man bent on destroying the world which he saw as corrupt._

" _The beauty of this place is a reminder that there is a force of good in our world." Hadji stated._

 _Jessie turned her gaze towards the older of the two Quest brothers. Hadji was wise, his cultural and mystical knowledge of so much in the world always amazed her._

 _'Such an amazing family I've become a part of.' Jessie thought to herself. 'Hadji is sage, but Jonny is the one I'm truly enamored with.'_

 _In fact, the goofy blonde had quickly stolen her heart, even if he didn't realize it yet._

 _Jessie's attention shifted back to the Northern Lights. Without thinking, she wrapped her arm around Jonny's and leaned against his puffy jacket. It felt so natural to be close to him, feeling his physical warmth, but also the emotional charge that emanated from him when they touched._

" _I'm gonna head back. I'm sure dad is waiting on us." Hadji stated softly, seeing that his companions might require a few moments of alone time._

 _"We're right behind you, Hadj." Jonny answered, his breath coming out in a misty puff of air._

" _Take your time, brother." The Sultan replied with a smile._

 _Alone again, Jessie snuggled closer to Jonny. "It is so amazing to see the Northern Lights in person. I would never have had this opportunity if it wasn't for your father. Nothing compares to the beauty and serenity."_

 _Smiling down at her, Jonny whispered, "I can think of one thing more beautiful, Jess."_

 _Jessie blushed; she only hoped her already rosy cheeks hid her reaction from him. "Stop that, Jonny."_

" _It's true, Jess." Jonny stroked a strand of her brilliant red hair that stuck out from beneath her cap. "I could look at you all day, every day."_

 _Jessie smiled and looked down, embarrassed by the affection that she craved. "Well, you're not so bad looking yourself, Hotshot."_

" _I like it when you call me that." Jonny replied with a grin._

" _My own little pet name for you, Quest."_

" _And only you, Jess." Jonny stated. "I'd never let anyone else call me that."_

" _I'd hope not." Jessie giggled._

" _You know what I want, Jessie?" Jonny's tone turned serious again._

" _What?" She breathed, anticipating his answer._

" _I want to kiss you right now." Jonny replied. "But I'm afraid."_

" _You should be," Jessie placed a gloved hand on his cheek. "Our lips would stick together."_

" _That's not what I'm afraid of." Jonny smiled. "I'm afraid I won't live up to your expectations."_

" _Don't be afraid of that." Jessie exhaled. "You've already surpassed them all."_

 _Smiling, Jonny leaned down. Jessie pushed against his chest, "But seriously, if you kiss me out here we'll be stuck together. Try explaining that one to my dad!"_

 _Jonny chuckled. "Yeah, good point. I've had enough excitement and near death experiences for right now. I don't need the ire of Race Bannon on top of it."_

" _Wait till we get back home." Jessie breathed. "Then we can do something special…just you and me."_

" _Deal." Jonny smiled._

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Groaning, Jessie wanted nothing more than to hit the snooze button on the alarm. The remnants of her dream still clung to the edges of her vision and she desired was to fall back asleep and see her love once again.

But the alarm grew louder, Jessie frowned pushed herself up. Rubbing her eyes, she saw it was just after five in the morning. Swinging her legs out of the bed, she was jolted awake when her feet came into contact with the cold wood floors.

Shivering, she quickly dressed, tied her hair back and made her way downstairs. Phil was already waiting for her.

"Do you ever sleep?" Jessie grumbled.

"I'm forty three years old, Jess, you should have way more energy than I do right now." Phil laughed.

"Ugh. I was never a morning person." Jessie followed Corbin out the back door. She began to stretch. The air was chilly, the sky a dark grey.

"In this profession you learn to sleep whenever and wherever you can. You never know when you'll have to react."

"My dad was always up early running. He'd take Jonny with him sometimes, but I preferred waiting at least until the sun was up." Jessie remarked.

"The sun is up. You just can't see it behind the clouds." Phil chuckled, starting off at a jog towards a path that disappeared into the woods.

"Lovely Ohio." Jessie shot back, keeping pace.

A mile in, Phil picked up the pace, leading Jessie deeper into the woods. Staying right in line with him, she enjoyed the tranquility the early morning run provided. The sounds of the forest filled her ears and she found herself enjoying not running with headphones for once.

Exiting the woods, they turned right, heading down a path running parallel with the wood line for approximately another mile until it turned sharply to the left. Dawn had arrived, but a thick layer of fog blanketed the countryside, creating a beautiful view. Even in the chilly morning, Jessie was beginning to sweat; glancing towards Phil she noticed he too was sweating.

The path stretched out and Jessie saw a hill ahead. Tightening her legs, she prepared to tackle the hill, the ground beneath her feet hard and compacted. They reached the hill a few minutes later and Jessie leaned into it, not slowing her pace. They took the hill in stride. At the top, Jessie inhaled a lungful of brisk air then started down the other side. Reaching the bottom they continued and she was impressed with her partner's stamina.

 _'Just wait, Corbin.'_ She told herself, smirking at the private thought.

Off to the left were the weapon ranges Phil had mentioned the day prior, as well as a series of buildings at the far end.

"What's that?" Jessie asked between breaths.

"MOUT site." Phil replied. "We'll turn around there."

Jessie noted his breathing was getting a bit heavier, but to his credit, he maintained the steady pace.

The MOUT site came up a half mile later and Jessie saw that in addition to the buildings a number of old vehicles occupied the ground, some were fairly well destroyed with broken windows, missing bumpers and riddled with bullet holes.

"Will I get to run that course?" Jessie asked while they turned around.

"Yes." Phil replied.

The duo began the return trip to the farmhouse. Checking her fit bit, she saw they had gone three miles.

Up the hill and back down, Jessie kept her breathing steady. Her legs were starting to burn, but she pushed the discomfort from her mind. She glanced at Phil again out of the corner of her eye. He was drenched with sweat. Jessie gave him a once over. He was a tad shorter than her dad and not as bulky. Instead his muscles were more toned and defined. Either way, bulky or toned, she knew his extra muscular weight was his handicap.

When they reached the sharp turn, Jessie knew she could take him the rest of the way. She picked up her pace and received a grunt from Phil for her efforts. Smirking she let him get his pace in check and when she saw the entrance to the woods that would lead back to the farmhouse she took off.

She didn't look back. Taking the turn, she entered the woods. She heard Corbin catching up. She knew it would be rough, but she could push through the rest and leave him behind. She did exactly that. Again, she lengthened her stride causing Phil to fall back. She could see the smoke from the farmhouse's chimney and she knew she was only about a half mile out. She glanced over her shoulder for just a moment and saw Phil pushing as hard as he could, gaining on her.

She shot her mentor a smile and waved. She took off into a full on sprint.

She never looked back until reaching the farmhouse. Slowing to a jog then a walk, she breathed heavily and put her hands on her head, making her way to the back porch to wait.

Minutes later, Phil emerged from the woods and slowed to a walk. Jessie smiled, they were both dripping with sweat.

"Very cute, Bannon." Phil had his hands on his knees, bent over and breathing deeply.

Jessie laughed. She stopped pacing and started to stretch. Phil eventually straightened and did the same. "I said I didn't like waking up early in the mornings to run. I didn't say I didn't like to run."

"I see." Phil muttered.

"You kept a good clip, old man."

"Old man?" Phil raised an eyebrow at her. "I'll remember that."

The door opened as Jessie laughed. Elise poked her head out. "Breakfast will be ready in an hour. Take your shoes off before you step inside my house."

"Thanks, Elise." Jessie smiled. She liked the old woman.

"Did you show Phil that he's not as young as he thinks he is?" The caretaker quipped when she saw Phil's drenched shirt.

"Of course." Jessie winked.

"I don't need you both busting my balls so early in the morning." Phil grumbled.

"Watch your mouth, Philip." Elise scolded.

Phil rolled his eyes. "Remind me to put an ad in the local paper for a new caretaker later."

"Hmph." Elise crossed her arms and headed back into the house, but Jessie could tell the exchange was all in good fun.

Jessie stepped towards the door, but stopped when Phil asked, "Where do you think you're going?"

Looking back at him, she shrugged. "To shower and change for breakfast."

Grinning, Phil shook his head. "We're not done."

Turning back to him, she gave him a look. "We're not?"

He pointed at the ground. "Pushups."

Groaning, Jessie rolled her eyes. "I hate pushups."

"I know. Get down." Phil laughed, getting down in the ground. Jessie grunted, but followed suit.

"How many?" Jessie asked, trying to keep up with Phil, but he was moving too fast. He didn't even look like he was in pain anymore from the evening prior.

"Till I get tired." Phil joked and kept pushing.

Jessie pushed.

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Terry was fortunate the streets were still crowded. Even with the shooting a few blocks away, people still went about their daily business; they just avoided the Red Square while the police cordoned off the crime scene.

Roberts had slipped away quickly in the first few minutes of confusion and had kept the long haired woman in his view as she walked further away from the historic site. She moved briskly, but did not break out into a run as to not arouse suspicion. It allowed Terry the opportunity to keep his distance to prevent detection, but also anticipate the woman's movements.

Leaving the busy streets behind, she eventually made her way to one of the lower class residential areas. Rows of Soviet era tenements lined the streets where children played, oblivious to the cold, unemployed men hung out on street corners smoking cigarettes and drinking cans of alcoholic beverages. An old lady pushing a small grocery cart hobbled along the broken concrete sidewalk, sidestepping the spots where the grass had sprouted up through the cracks. No one paid the woman or Roberts any mind.

Terry was forced to drop back further; he couldn't risk being spotted if the woman made a sudden turn to glance behind her. He was still able to track her and watched as she disappeared into one of the front doors of a massive apartment complex a block up.

He quickened his pace and reached the door less than a minute after his target vanished through it. Hesitating, he wondered if this was enough, if he should retreat back to his hotel and report his findings. But he knew Dugger, Altine, and Velk could conduct a better search with a picture of the woman. That's all he needed, just a picture.

He was armed and reaching beneath his jacket, he felt the cold metal of his pistol's grip against his bare hand. The chill was strangely reassuring. Inhaling and exhaling, Terry nodded and pushed through the door.

The hallway was empty. Cursing under his breath he feared his hesitation might have given the woman a chance to escape.

Pausing, his ears took in a number of sounds. Behind closed doors he could hear the muffled words from either television sets or even actual conversations. He thought he heard a baby crying, followed by a barking dog and a few shouts from an unseen man behind one of the doors.

Suddenly another sound filled his ears, the sound of footsteps caused by a woman's heels. Heading for the stairs, Terry glanced upward and saw the woman heading up.

 _'Got you.'_ He smiled to himself.

He vaulted himself up the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time in order to catch up. When he was only steps behind, he moved quickly, brushing past the woman and mumbling in Russian.

" Простите меня."

"Watch it, asshole." The woman grumbled in English when Roberts stumbled into her. He ignored her completely.

Roberts kept moving, continuing upward. The woman shook her head, but continued as well. Eventually stopping on the fifth floor landing. Roberts was a flight up. Peering over the edge, he pulled out his phone and moved quietly back down the steps. He needed a decent picture and as the woman paused, looking up and down the hallways to her right and left, Terry snapped a number of shots with his phone.

Quickly moving back up the stairs, Roberts headed towards the top floor. Making his way to the end of the hall, he found a window that led to a fire escape. It creaked as he opened it, but he was able to wedge it up just high enough to climb out.

Out the building and down the fire escape, Terry headed back out the street and made his way back in the direction of his own hotel.

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The sun had yet to break through the cloud barrier, making the chilly Ohio morning feel even colder. Jessie rode behind the driver's seat in Milner's Jeep Wrangler, Phil was in the passenger seat; the other two Agents having already departed earlier in the morning to set up the range.

Jessie was dressed in cargo pants, boots, and another thick sweatshirt. Her long red hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore a black beanie cap over her head to ward off the cold.

Wearing warm attire too, minus a cap, Phil had on black jeans, his black combat boots and a light, soft grey, quarter button sweater. Jessie watched him sway in his seat, his hand gripping the handle above the passenger door as Milner navigated the Jeep down the same road Phil and Jessie had run earlier in the morning. He kept his eyes forward, appearing to be deep in thought.

 _'Probably just focusing. I should be doing the same.'_ Jessie thought to herself.

Arriving at the ranges on the far side of the hill, Milner parked the Jeep next to Pickett's Ford Pickup Truck. Climbing out, Milner went to converse with Blake and Pickett next to a table filled with firearms.

Jessie got out, her feet squishing in the soft, muddy grass. Meeting Phil at the front of the vehicle, she followed him over to the others.

"This morning we'll just work on shooting techniques." Phil said when they reached the table. "Later in the afternoon we'll change it up based on your assessment here."

Jessie couldn't help but gawk at the array of weaponry that was laid out before her. Everything from handguns to semi-automatic rifles to an actual machine gun were lined up along the wooden table. At the far end was an assortment of different types of magazines, all stacked appropriately by ammunition and weapon type.

"I get to shoot all of these?" Jessie beamed.

"If we have time." Phil said. "Pick what you want to fire first."

Jessie looked at him then started walking down the line. She thought she was fairly smart on firearms, thanks to her dad, and she did recognize some of the more common ones like the Beretta 92F, a Glock 17, a M4 Carbine, and an AK-47. She also saw what she thought was a tactical M14 with a scope; it looked like the one Corbin had in the picture from Afghanistan. She chose the M14.

"This one." She picked it up, it was heavier than it looked, even in its modified configuration.

"Okay." Phil nodded toward Pickett who picked up some M14 magazines.

Walking to the range, Jessie set the weapon down and waited for her instructions. Turning she watched Blake and Milner disappear into a wooden shed where they would operate the mechanics of the range.

"First I want to see how well you can shoot. Blake and Milner will raise the targets." Phil stated. "Do you know how this weapon functions?"

Jessie shook her head. "Not really."

Phil took the rifle and gave her a quick block of instruction on how to load it, charge it, the safety and how to properly hold the rifle. Jessie gave him her full attention. When she felt comfortable he set it back down then pointed at some safety glasses and ear plugs.

"Put those on." He said. Jessie did and Phil and Pickett did the same with their gear.

"Concentrate on the target downrange. Take your time. These are not pop up targets. We'll get to those later. Ready?"

Jessie nodded. She took one of the magazines and loaded it just as she was shown. Setting the barrel down on one of the sandbags on the table, Jessie took a seat behind the rifle and focused her eye down the scope, getting acquainted with the weapon.

Phil motioned towards the shed and Jessie waited. A few second later a bullseye target appeared about one hundred meters away. Taking aim, she tried to breathe normally, eventually squeezing the trigger. The rifle recoiled, pushing into her shoulder with more force than she thought. She jerked and the round missed completely.

"Damnit." She grumbled.

"Relax." Phil said. He took a seat next to her. "You're anticipating the recoil. Now that you know how it feels, don't do that again. You'll miss your target every time."

Jessie frowned, but nodded. Taking aim, she fired again. This time the round hit the target, but it was high right of the bullseye diagram.

"Readjust your aim." Phil said.

"I had the crosshairs on the center of the target." Jessie countered.

"You see where your round hit? Readjust your aim accordingly." Phil instructed again.

"How?" Jessie asked.

Phil sighed. "Put the weapon on safe."

Jessie didn't like his tone; he sounded disappointed. "Phil, just tell me how to do it. I've really only fired handguns before. Nothing like this."

"Stop." He said. "Step away."

Jessie did as she was told. Phil stood, picked up the rifle and unloaded both the magazine and the round in the chamber.

"You're too nervous. This weapon isn't going to hurt you. Relax and listen to what I'm telling you."

"I just don't understand why I'm off."

"Because the rifle is not zeroed to you, Jess. This isn't like a handgun." Phil gave Pickett a look and the older man just shrugged. "In the heat the moment, you may have to utilize a weapon that is not yours so you need to know how to adjust your aim accordingly."

Setting the weapon down, Phil unlatched the quick release bolts and removed the scope. "Part of your problem is you're trying to use these damn optics. You need to know how to fire with iron sights."

"Optics make it easier." Jessie rebutted.

Phil smirked at her. "That's laziness talking. Don't ever let me hear you say that again. Now watch."

Phil motioned at the shed and Jessie saw her target drop and another appear further down the range. It had to be at least two hundred and fifty meters away. Pickett handed her a pair of binoculars and motioned for her to look downrange.

To Jessie's surprise, Phil remained standing, not using the table or sandbag for support. She watched as he positioned his arms and legs into the correct stance then steadied his breathing. He exhaled and on his inhale he paused then fired.

Jessie watched as his round hit the target, but not in the center. He lowered the rifle and looked back at her. "Did you see where I hit it?"

Jessie nodded.

"Now watch again." Phil said and went back to his shooting stance.

Peering down the binoculars Jessie observed and when Phil fired a second time, his round hit the target dead center.

He unloaded the rifle again, both magazine and chambered round, put the weapon on safe, then set it down on the table.

Jessie thought he'd be gloating, but he wasn't. He looked at her and said, "Did you see what I did? I readjusted my aim. All I had to do was move from where the rifle was telling me was center mass to what it actually was."

"Uh, according to my dad, you're a marksman. I'm sure this is natural for you." Jessie smirked.

"She's got a point, Phil." Pickett huffed a laugh. "And the M14 is your baby."

"I wasn't born a marksman," Phil replied giving Pickett a look. "It took practice, but the basic techniques are the same no matter your skill level. And don't' worry about labels. Marksman is just a word, it doesn't mean anything other than I can shoot fairly well. What you need to concentrate on are the fundamentals, breathing, aim and sight picture, trigger squeeze." He ticked them off on his fingers as he spoke. "You don't need fancy optics and all that crap. All you need are those fundamentals and you can hit your target wherever you want every time."

"Then why even give me the option of using a scope?" Jessie asked. She wasn't being defiant, she actually wanted to know and learn.

"Another test." Phil answered. "I wanted to see what you went for and naturally you went for a weapon that could possibly aid you through the use of a scope. But you don't need a scope. You're not a sniper and we are not training you to be one. You won't be engaging targets at distances that make the use of optics necessary. For now, concentrate on getting good with the sights the weapon already has incorporated into the design."

Jessie knew he was right. "Okay. I'll give it another go."

Again, Phil motioned towards the shed and this time his target disappeared and another popped up at one hundred and fifty yards. "Fundamentals, Jess. That's all this is. Just take your time. No one is shooting back at you."

"Not yet anyways." Pickett laughed.

Jessie shook her head and got back behind the rifle.

"Don't over think it and again, don't anticipate the recoil." Phil said, sitting down next to her again. He moved his fingers from the rear sight post to the front, "Line these up on the point you are aiming at. Your target will appear a tad fuzzy to your eye. That's how it should be. Aim center mass at the target."

Jessie took in all the information and did as instructed. She worked her breathing the way she had seen him do and when she felt ready, she placed her finger on the trigger and squeezed.

The round was closer, but still high right of the bullseye.

"Aim low and left of the center." Phil said after he set the binoculars down. "Don't raise your head, keep the same sight picture every time. Always place your cheek in the same position."

Jessie fired again. Her round was closer. She was doing it.

"Relax. Concentrate and don't get excited. Just walk it in now." Phil said.

Another round left the barrel and slammed into the target, only centimeters from the center.

"Again." Phil ordered.

Jessie went through the steps in her head and readjusted her aim once again. Firing she couldn't help but cheer when the round hit the bullseye. "Yes!"

Phil smiled. "See. Worked didn't it?"

"Damn right." Jessie smiled. Pickett reached over and high fived the redhead. Even Corbin gave her a smile and a slap to the hand.

Motioning to Pickett, Phil held out his hand and waited for Brad to hand him a tool. Once in hand, Phil started readjusting the sights on the weapon. Pickett motioned for Blake and Milner to change the targets and a fresh one appeared in the same location as the one Jessie had just engaged.

"Now," Phil stated as he worked, "I'm readjusting your sights for what should be your zero. So do everything again, just like I showed you, but once again aim center mass on the target. Aim at the bullseye."

Once he finished, Jessie took up her position again. Doing as instructed, she went through the motions and when ready, she squeezed the trigger; the round penetrated the target, just high of dead center. Again, Jessie couldn't help but grin.

"The point is that of course it'll be easier to aim and fire a weapon you know is zeroed to you." Phil said, motioning for her to stand. "But sometimes you won't always have that luxury. Nor will you have the luxury of comfort and supported firing positions."

He motioned for her to crouch down near the ground. Phil crouched down next to her. "Now do it again, but fire from this position."

"Damn." Jessie mumbled. She already couldn't get a steady position, her elbows rolling on her knees.

"Not too easy, huh?" Phil smiled. "Here let me show you."

Handing the rifle over, Jessie was about to say something about him already adjusting the sights, but she figured he'd know how to adjust for the changes he made. Sitting back, Phil tucked his right leg beneath him and sat back, using his leg almost like a cushion. His left leg was bent up and he used his knee to support his non-firing arm and steady the rifle.

"You'll find a position that is comfortable for you." He stated. "I like this because it gives me support. Remember, the fundamentals are the same no matter what position you are shooting from."

Jessie gave him a nod of understanding then watched as a new target appeared. The targets were different this time, pop ups that looked like green army men.

"Oh they've got jokes." Phil mumbled and fired. Jessie watched him drop the target and another appeared off to the left and further downrange; Blake and Milner were running the pop up course for Phil.

He engaged the target, dropped it, and sighted the next. Jessie smiled with amusement as she watched him drop every target until his bolt locked to the rear. She heard him grumble, stand, unload the weapon, reach for the spare magazine on the table, load it, chamber a round, then remained standing to engage the rest of the targets.

When the scenario was finally over, he unloaded the empty magazine, set the rifle on safe and placed it on the table. Looking back at the shed he raised his arms at his Agents and grinned. "What was that all about?"

Milner and Blake emerged laughing. "You hit them all, boss." Blake stated.

"Of course I did." Phil replied with an arrogant huff.

"Show off." Pickett grunted with a smirk. "Phil here never passes on a chance to showcase his skills."

"You could have warned me at least." He said.

"Obviously you didn't need any warning." Jessie remarked. "Maybe one day I can shoot like that."

"Practice, that's all it takes." Phil replied.

"Practice and unlimited ammunition." Blake threw in.

Picking up the rifle and empty magazines, Phil moved back to the table. He set it down in its place, then picked up another and handed it to Jessie. "A Sig Sauer 556, SBR. A bit more your style I would say."

Jessie examined the weapon. It was all black, with a folding stock and once again no optical attachments. "SBR?" She asked.

"Short barrel rifle." Blake answered.

"It's definitely lighter." Jessie mumbled. She raised the unloaded weapon into the pocket of her shoulder. Keeping the barrel pointed towards the range, she tested its weight and feel while looking down the length of the weapon's barrel through the sights.

"Try it out on semi-automatic for right now." Phil instructed. Grabbing the magazines he walked back over the shooting position with her and Pickett. Blake and Milner returned to the booth. "After you get a feel for it, you can fire off some rounds on full auto just for fun."

"I like it." Jessie grinned enthusiastically.

"We all like that one." Pickett nodded with a smile.

Phil felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Pulling it out, he sighed. Palming the phone he said, "I should take this. Jess, gets some time in on that. When I get back we'll fire it full auto then do some weapon transition drills."

"Got it." Jessie replied.

Giving Pickett a nod to take charge, he trotted over to Jeep, climbed in, started the engine and drove off down the road a bit, wanting to be away from the sounds of the range.

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"Hello?" Phil groaned into the phone. He drove the Wrangler to the far end of the MOUT site, well away from the noise of the weapon's range.

"Don't you _'hello'_ me, Phil." Estella shot back. "I've been calling you for two days straight."

"I've been busy." Phil answered. Going into this, he knew Estella would call, demanding answers and the return of Jessie. He hated doing what he was currently doing, yet he knew in his heart it was best that Jessie be at his side and not off on her own.

"Where are you? Where's my daughter?"

"Estella, first you need to calm down."

"Don't tell me to..."

Phil raised his voice, cutting her off, "Second you need to understand the safest place for Jessie to be right now is with me where I can keep an eye on her for both you and Race."

"The safest place for her is with me, with her mother."

Phil didn't have time for this conversation. Squinting he pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke. "Really, Estella? That's what you believe? Do you have any idea what your daughter was doing all those days out in the lighthouse?"

Estella was silent.

"She was making plans to search for Jonny on her own. That and hacking into Intelligence One's database to spy on my computer."

"What? No..." Estella started.

"Yes, that's exactly what she was doing. Right under your nose, Estella. I could have arrested her, but why would I do that? Jessie will do whatever it takes to find Jonny and so will I. Part of that is doing what I need to do to keep Jessie safe."

"I had no idea." Estella mumbled.

Phil paused. He actually found himself feeling sorry for Estella, but he couldn't let his emotions for the distraught woman change his course of action.

"Estella, you have to trust me right now. Trust that what I'm doing is in your daughter's best interest. She'll be with me until we find Jonny and bring him home. You know I'll do anything to protect her. You know that."

"I know." She muttered.

"We saved her once, Stell. You saved her. So don't think I'm going to let her fall back into the hands of those that would want to hurt her. I'd die before I let that happen."

He heard her sigh through the phone. "Just promise me one thing, Phil."

"What's that?"

Estella was tired, fed up with everything; she'd had enough. "When you find those responsible for doing this...when you find The Consortium, make them pay."

"I will, Estella."

"No," Estella replied, "Don't arrest them. Kill every last one of those rotten bastards, whoever they are, and then bring my daughter back to me."

Phil wasn't sure how to reply, he'd never heard such fiercely spoken words come from Estella in the past. So he just said, "I have to go, Estella."

"I know." She answered softly. "Take care of my daughter, Phil. And take care of yourself."

"Okay."

The line went dead. Setting the phone down in his lap, Phil leaned back in the Wrangler's seat. The conversation wasn't nearly as horrible as he expected it would be, but it still didn't make him feel much better. Estella's word stuck in his mind, reminding Corbin of all the pain The Consortium had already caused and continued to cause; to Jonny and Jessie; to Benton, Hadji, Estella and Race, and even his own family, forced into hiding because of The Consortium. Shaking his head, he found himself smiling, agreeing with Estella. The Consortium had given up its chance at simply being dismantled, its members ending up behind bars. The Consortium and all its members deserved nothing short of total elimination.

Phil started the Jeep back up, pushed the manual shifter back into first gear and headed back to Jessie and his Agents with a new determination to see this matter through to the end, no matter the consequences.

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Benton's face brightened when he saw Hadji make his way through the final security checkpoint at the airport.

Estella was at his side. She felt Benton's relief and joy at the sight of his adopted son. Estella knew Benton was worn down, the stress of the ordeal already taking its toll on his body. He looked as if he had aged five years in the last few months. Estella frowned; she hadn't been much help to her friend at all.

"Father." Hadji beamed, wrapping his arms around Benton and giving him a tight hug the moment they were together.

"Hadji, I've missed you so much." Benton stated, his voice cracking a little.

"Likewise." Hadji said as he pulled away. Benton studied the young man. He was the oldest of the three kids, but at the moment, he looked more like a worried child than an experienced political leader.

Estella gave the young man a quick hug. Always concerned with the well-being of others, he asked, "Estella, how have you been?"

"Good, Hadji. You look well."

"I am holding up as best as I can." The young man answered.

Benton noticed the I-1 Agent, the man named Reynolds, hovered a few feet away, remaining respectful to the family reunion. Benton gave the Agent a nod of thanks and appreciation for his dedication to Hadji. Reynolds simply nodded back. Benton knew the man would accompany them back to the mansion and join his fellow Agents on guard duty at the compound.

"Agent Reynolds informed me about Jessie's situation." Hadji stated as the group made their way towards baggage claim, Reynolds following behind. Never off duty, Reynolds' eyes scanned the crowds of travelers.

"Yes." Estella mumbled.

"And that there has been no further news from Race in regards to Jonny's whereabouts." Hadji stated, his voice filled with sorrow.

"They are still actively looking for him, son." Benton placed a hand on Hadji's shoulder. The Sultan was almost as tall as Benton now.

"I know, father." Hadji replied.

"I am working on some tests from some evidence that was collected at one of the crime scenes." Benton stated, his mind already back to work. "I want you to get settled in when we get home, but perhaps tomorrow you can assist me."

"I do not need time to settle in." Hadji remarked. "Even though we flew commercially for safety reasons, we were in first class and I slept on the plane. I would like to see what you have as soon as we get home. The sooner we get back to work the sooner we can bring Jonny home. Besides, Agent Reynolds is the one that needs the rest. Sometimes I imagine I-1 Agents are trained not to sleep."

Benton smiled and gave his son a nod. "Okay, son."

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Kreed grinned, watching the happy reunion taking place between Doctor Benton Quest and his son, Hadji.

Obscured by the crowd, Lucius Kreed sat at a table in the coffee shop, sipping his hot earl grey tea. None of the family saw him, but Kreed did notice the I-1 Agent that stood off to the side; the man's head moving expertly to watch the crowd in order to protect his charge. Kreed never understood men like Race Bannon and his fellow I-1 Agents. Why they were so willing to give their lives in the defense of people they barely knew was a concept that escaped the British man.

"Fools, the lot of them." Kreed mumbled with a smirk.

Once the group passed the café on their way to baggage claim, Kreed stood and finished his tea. Falling in step behind a gaggle of women, Kreed smiled handsomely at the Americans, even though, on the inside, he was turned off by their mannerisms and boorish behaviors.

He kept the Quest family in sight all the way to baggage claim and once they stopped at their destination, Kreed slipped out the nearest set of automatic doors. Heading for the rental car lot, he went over his plans in his head. Smiling he mumbled, "This is going to be a load of bloody fun."

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"How's the arm feeling?" Temple boomed, startling Jonny who had been working out with a set of dumbbells in the back room of the safe house.

"Still hurts a bit and itches a lot." Jonny replied, setting the weights down on the floor. "I can't wait to take the damn bandage off."

"It looks good." Temple grinned. "Vlad did good work."

"Hell yeah he did." Jonny had seen the final product on his arm before Vlad had bandaged the tattoo. The scorpion was large, covering almost all of the top part of Jonny's arm, the tail curling over on to the top of his shoulder. It had taken hours of detailed work, but Jonny had toughened up and had the entire piece completed in one session. Once the bandage came off he knew he wouldn't be able to stop looking at the artwork.

"So what's this then?" Temple asked with a nod at the weights. "Pumping up to make yourself manlier now that you've got a tat and a bit of long hair."

Jonny smiled, "Hey, if this is what it takes. Besides, I kind of like my new look."

Temple snorted, his lip curling up into a smile. Leaning against the door jam, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Well, except for the hair, I'd say you're making progress."

"I like having longer hair." To make his point, Jonny ran his hand over his head, pushing his bushy locks back.

"You're starting to look like a damn hippie." Temple grunted.

Jonny shook his head and picked the weights up again. Curling his arms, he asked, "What did Vlad mean when he said you were getting forgetful? Is there something I should know about?"

Temple frowned. He didn't want to have this conversation with Jonny, or with anyone for that matter. Kreed and Van Brandt knew, they were supplying him with the drugs, but Greg never liked talking about himself and what was happening to him.

"Don't worry about that. Like I said before, he was just being insolent. Russians are good at being pretentious dicks."

"You'd tell me if something was wrong? Seriously, Greg. You said you weren't going to leave me." Jonny replied, pausing in his workout.

"And I don't plan to, Hotshot. Nothing is wrong. Stop worrying about it. You sound like a whiny little girl."

Jonny smirked and shook his head, "Fine. Just tell me if something happens, alright? That's all I'm asking."

"Will do, kid. But do me a favor, don't mention any of this conversation tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Jonny set the weights down again. "What's going on tomorrow?"

"That's when you get the meet the rest of the board." Temple smiled.

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 **Author's Notes:** **Простите меня – Russian for "Pardon me"**

 **MOUT – Military Operations in Urban Terrain**

 **To Be Continued…**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **Author's Notes: Thank you to Goddess Evie for her assistance with some of the scenes in this chapter. Her input has only made them better!**

 **Another thank you to ForeverWells. She makes the relationship and dialogue between Karla and Terry all the more believable. Those two are all you, amiga!**

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Pushing the covers off, Race cautiously got out of bed, being careful not to disturb Jade who was sleeping soundly to his left.

Standing, he found his pants from where he had hastily removed them earlier in the evening and pulled them on.

He made his way quietly towards the front room of the house. Clicking on one of the lamps, he sat down on the couch and powered up the laptop that sat on the coffee table. Waiting for it to power on, he got up and retrieved a glass of water from the kitchen.

It was still dark outside and the display above the little stove showed the time as 04:57.

Moving back to the front room, he retrieved the thumb drive from his pocket and plugged it into the computer. Opening the first folder on the drive, Race began to scan the documents contained within the file; most where in Italian, but his knowledge of the Spanish language gave him an advantage in reading the documents.

Race dove into the information, filtering through documents he didn't think were relevant to his search; others he moved from the folder to the desktop to review later. He became lost in the sea of information he'd stolen from Martucci.

"What are you doing?"

Looking up, Race saw Jade standing in the doorway. Since they were in her safe house, she had clothing and other essentials of her own. Currently, she wore a silk nighty that showed off her provocative curves.

Race gulped and leaned back. "I couldn't sleep. I wanted to start searching these files."

Jade smiled back at him. "Its six thirty in the morning, Race."

"Already?" Race exclaimed. He had no idea he'd been hunched over the laptop for so long. Standing, he stretched his arms above his head. "I guess I could use a break."

"Want to get some breakfast?" Jade purred. "I know a little place in the village that serves the best Italian meals."

Race reached down, removed the thumb drive and shut down the laptop. "Let me take a quick shower and we can go."

"I know a way we can save some time." Jade winked in response.

"Do you really think that will save time?" Race smiled back, knowing exactly what she meant.

"Well, perhaps not, but at least it'll be fun." To make her point, Jade turned and purposefully let the straps of her nighty fall from her shoulders, the garment slipping from her body completely. Looking back at Race over her shoulder, Jade smiled and asked, "So are you going to join me or not?"

Race grinned. He almost knocked over the coffee table trying to get around it to catch up with his lover.

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Back in his hotel room, Roberts made the call over his laptop to the GOC. Answered immediately by the duty officer, Terry had to hold for a few minutes till they found Pete Dugger.

To Roberts' surprise, Dugger and Altine both appeared on the screen. He brightened at the vision of his girlfriend, she was stunning, even over a video screen half a world away.

"What have you got?" Dugger asked, getting straight to the point. "We heard about the assassination."

"Are you alright, Terry?" Karla's question was steeped with worry.

"I'm fine. I was there, but I obviously wasn't the target." Roberts replied. "The man that was killed had his briefcase stolen. This was obviously a planned and coordinated hit. I managed to follow the woman that stole the briefcase and snapped some photos of her. I'm sending them now."

Dugger nodded, his eyes drifting off screen, pulling up the data Terry was sending.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Karla asked again.

"I'm fine, muñeca." He answered, his face flushing from the attention.

"Shit." Dugger grumbled. Looking back at the screen, Roberts focused back on the Cajun, his flirting halted by the seriousness of the man's tone.

"What is it?" Terry inquired. "Do you know who she is?"

"You're positive this woman took the briefcase?" Pete asked.

"Of course I am. I followed her back to an apartment complex. I sent the address to you as well."

"New orders, Terry. Redirect your efforts and pull surveillance on the apartment complex, but keep your distance, do not let anyone see you. Your language skills will allow you to blend with the crowd, I assume." Dugger flipped through a folder that Terry couldn't see. "I'll verify with the duty officer, but I think we have some people in Saint Petersburg that we can redirect to pull surveillance with you. I'll find someone else to cover down for you at the conference."

"Pete, who the hell is she?" Terry demanded.

Dugger gulped. "I don't know for sure which one she is, but that woman is one of the daughters of Doctor Zin."

"Fuck." Roberts mumbled.

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Jessie woke up minutes before her alarm. She was grateful Phil had told her she could sleep in till six, but her body already seemed to be adjusting to her new internal clock.

Sitting up, her sore muscles screamed in protest to her movements. She had no idea that spending all morning and afternoon running firing drills on the range would cause her to engage muscles she rarely used. Add all of that on top of the run and the countless number of pushups Phil made her perform and her body wanted to nothing but curl back up under the covers and go back to sleep.

But Jessie shook it off. Standing, she stretched her arms and legs, working the soreness out as best she could. She needed to be limber for the morning's training.

Once dressed she headed downstairs and found Milner, Blake, and Pickett in the kitchen. "Where's Phil?" Jessie asked.

"He'll be down in a minute I assume." Pickett replied.

The two men were dressed in workout clothing, but Blake was not. The woman must have caught Jessie's look because she smiled back at the redhead and kicked her right leg with the heel of her left boot.

Jessie's gawked a little when she heard a metal ping. "I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't, sweetheart." Blake replied. "You had no reason to know."

"I couldn't tell. You walk so…gracefully. What happened?"

"Lost it on a mission in South America. I was in a vehicle that crashed and my leg was injured when the vehicle rolled."

"What she won't tell you is that even in her condition, she pulled the other two Agents from the vehicle before it exploded into flames." Phil stated, having snuck up behind Jessie.

"Jeez. I'm sorry." Jessie replied.

"Don't be. I'm not embarrassed by it." Blake replied with a warm smile. "I went to work in the GOC after my recovery and still work there part time after receiving partial retirement."

Phil continued. "She also won't tell you that she received I-1's highest commendation for her actions that day in South America and was also recognized by the President for her bravery under fire. Yes, they were being shot at when she pulled her fellow Agents from the truck."

"Or that one of those Agents was your daddy." Milner threw in with a smile.

"Really?" Jessie was dumbfounded.

"Jessie," Phil said, "Everyone here has some sort of connection to your dad. So when I asked them to assist me with giving you some training, they were more than happy to volunteer."

"Okay, can we talk about something else now, please?" Blake laughed a little.

"Right," Phil nodded. "How are you feeling this morning, Jessie?"

"Sore as hell." She answered honestly.

"Good, because this morning we are going to do some hand to hand combat drills. I know your dad has spent countless hours training you in marital arts and self-defense, but I want to assess you myself." He looked up at his fellow Agents, giving them a nod. The three stepped out the back door.

Once alone, Phil motioned for Jessie to have a seat at the table. He turned a chair to face her and said, "Jessie, before we begin I wanted to have a talk with you about this."

"What do you mean?" Jessie asked. The look on Corbin's face made her nervous.

"Milner and Pickett know what happened to you when you were held captive." Jessie flushed. Phil reached out and gently took her hand in his, providing her with fatherly comfort. "I had to tell them in order to prep them for this part of the training. They don't know the details, just that you were assaulted."

Jessie looked down, her lips curling downward in a frown.

"Don't be ashamed, Jess. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of." Phil said when he saw her reaction. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "As you know, this type of training involves physical contact. None of us will touch you in any way or any place on your body with the intention of making you feel scared. That's not our goal here. But we will go all out to facilitate realistic training."

"I'll be okay." Jessie mumbled softly.

"I don't want you to have to relive any of those memories and I understand that certain actions can cause reactions, even involuntary ones." Phil remarked. "But…"

Jessie looked up, a furrow between her brows as she waited to hear what followed that word. Phil watched her closely as he continued.

"I gotta be honest, Jess. We have no clue what kinds of situations we'll find ourselves in. And we'll definitely be facing people who won't give two shits what kind of trauma you've endured. Maybe even the same kinds of men we rescued you from. I need to know that you'll not only be able to protect yourself, but also that you won't put myself or any of my Agents in danger. I'm not suggesting you'd do that intentionally, but we have to be honest about your state that we're working with."

Jessie nodded as her gaze fell back to her lap. She was holding so tightly to his hand. Phil gave her a moment to process his words.

Softly he said, "So, we don't have to do this if you're really not ready."

Jessie raised her eyes, meeting his. The look in his blue eyes was not one of pity, just concern. Jessie understood his statement; he was giving her an out. She shook her head, "No. I want to do it. I can do it."

"You've only been here a few days and you've already surpassed all of our expectations." Phil smiled. "Well, not really mine, because honestly I didn't really have any. I knew you'd excel the moment you set foot in that diner back in Rockport. I saw it in your eyes."

Jessie warmed at his compliment. "Really?"

"Of course." Phil said. He let go of her hand and sat back, straightening his posture. "But I have to offer you one last chance to back out. If you feel you can't do this, I'll take you to a safe house and get back to work finding Jonny."

"No." Jessie responded immediately, shaking her head. "I'm committed to this one hundred percent. If nothing else, doing this exercise will help me overcome my fears and apprehensions. I can recognize the difference between friends trying to help me and people trying to hurt me. I can't live in a shell, especially not once Jonny is back."

He smiled a little. "Okay. But promise me that if at any time during this you feel uncomfortable that you'll either tap out or call time out. We all know to stop immediately if you do either of those two things."

"I promise." Jessie nodded.

"Lastly, I'm still in charge here." Phil reminded her. "If at any time I think things are getting out of hand or it's too much, I'll stop it and bench you. That goes for the rest of the training from here on out. Even the follow-on mission. I'm always open to suggestions and recommendations, but at the end of the day, my decision is final. Can you live with that?"

Standing she looked at him with a smile and said, "Yes. Can we get on with it now?"

Phil stood as well. "Alright, Bannon. Let's get started."

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Eyes unfocused, mind numb, Estella wandered to the pharmacy counter when she heard her name called out. Gathering up the brown paper bag and mumbling her thanks, she made her way through the store, paid, and headed out to her car.

The chilly autumn air whipped through her hair, the wind brushing against her cheeks like icy fingers lightly tantalizing her skin. She shuddered, but not from the cold. Stuffing her pills into her purse, Estella stepped in the opposite direction of her car. Heading across the street, she made her way towards to the entrance of the small park at the far end of the road. She needed to clear her head and compose herself before heading back to Benton's house. Even with Hadji back home, Estella still felt tiny in the gigantic mansion. The I-1 Agents that roamed the grounds were still cordial with her, a few even striking up conversations in regards to her short stint in the agency or questions about her ex-husband. Estella had humored them, but she still felt hollow inside. The home that had always been filled with so much love and happiness was now empty, quiet, and sullen. Benton buried himself in his work, Hadji right by his side as they waited anxiously for any update from Race or Intelligence One, but Estella really had nothing to do.

She debated going back home, trying to go back to work herself, but she couldn't bring herself to actually leave. Race had left her to go find Jonny, her own daughter left with Corbin to go find Jonny, but yet no one had wanted her help in the search any longer. They all just left. It was those thoughts of uselessness and self-pity that were running through her head the day she picked up another bottle of her prescription pills. It was her anger at Race and Corbin for taking her daughter from her and, Estella assumed, turning Jessie into an operative just like them. The pills gave her solace…they brought her peace. She thought her conversation with Phil would have alleviated her fears and it had, for a while, but the draw of the pill's relief was too great and Estella had given in to the temptation.

Strolling through the park, observing the deep browns and oranges of the changing leaves, she started to feel content. The quietness of her surroundings worked to ease her troubled thoughts and she felt those feelings starting to melt away. Maybe she didn't need the pills after all, maybe she just needed a change of scenery.

Estella was so consumed by her thoughts, she didn't see the man walking in her direction until they collided; he too must have had his head in the clouds.

"Excuse me." Estella muttered as the man dropped his cell phone.

"Forgive me," He replied as he reached down and retrieved his device. "I should have been paying closer attention to where I was going. Are you okay?"

Estella smiled, he had an intoxicating British accent that complimented his rich eyes and his long, thick blonde hair. Blinking, Estella composed herself and replied, "I'm fine, I hope your phone did not break due to my clumsiness. If so, I will replace it."

He smiled and waved a hand nonchalantly as he tucked the phone into his overcoat pocket. "It is only a material object, do not worry about it. I am more concerned with you." When Estella blushed, he smiled and said, "Where are my manners? You must think me such a brute. My name is Lucius Kreed. And you are?"

"Estella…Velasquez." She answered, no reservations about giving her name to a complete stranger.

"Such a beautiful name to compliment such beautiful accent…and woman." He grinned, flashing his pearly whites at her.

Blushing even more, Estella looked away, smiling. She couldn't remember the last time a man had said such things to her. Looking back, she said, "Your accent is quite lovely as well, Lucius."

"Thank you. Well, as long as you are not injured, I should allow you to return to your quiet contemplation. Good day, Ms. Velasquez." Kreed nodded his head slightly to the side then stepped around her.

Estella watched him go, then without thinking she called out to him. "Mister Kreed."

Turning back towards her, he smiled. Estella felt her heart flutter from that smile. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "No, I am not. I am on holiday and came to see the beauty of this region during the changing seasons. Luckily for me, I've experienced a number of different forms of beauty today just in the last five minutes."

' _Oh does this man know how to swoon a lady!'_ She thought. Then speaking aloud she said, "Perhaps you would like a guide?"

Taking a step back towards her, he asked, "Do you know any tour guides?"

Shaking her head, she said, "No,"

He cut her off, "Good because I think I've already found one." Winking at her, he said, "Perhaps we can enjoy this park together, then if you are not busy we can grab a cup of coffee as they say here in America."

"I'd love that, Mister Kreed."

"Please, Ms. Velasquez, call me Lucius."

"Only if you call me Estella." She replied.

Kreed cocked his arm, jutting his elbow out and towards Estella. Smiling, she wrapped her arm into his. The haze that blanketed her mind earlier was gone, her thoughts clear once again. Leaning slightly against Kreed, Estella enjoyed his company as they headed deeper into the park.

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Milner's leg sweep sent Jessie crashing to the grass. Even with her adrenaline pumping, fatigue was beginning to set in. They'd been training for almost an hour and Phil had yet to call for a break. Jessie fought the entire time, but the three men had taken turns stepping in to face her. She'd easily dispatched Pickett. The oldest of the group was still strong, but he was slow and Jessie had anticipated his movements and plan of attack with ease. After she'd taken Pickett down three times, Corbin had stepped in.

The I-1 Director was skilled, but again, not as skilled as Race and therefore Jessie. Phil had benefited from observing her work on Pickett and must have adjusted his plan accordingly. He had gotten Jessie down twice, but she quickly recovered from both attacks. What Phil didn't seem to know was that Jessie let him take her down, needing to assess his skill level in order to develop her own plan. After that it hadn't taken long for her to make her godfather tap out three times.

But Milner was different. He was on par with Race, of that Jessie was sure. He would quickly adjust his plan based on his observations of Jessie and this last move had been his second successful attack on her. She had yet to get him to the ground.

Pushing up from the grass, Jessie scrambled back to her feet. Milner's move had caught her off guard, yet she recovered quickly from the attack. Breathing heavily, Jessie took a few steps backwards.

Off to the side she heard Phil mumble something, but she couldn't make out his words. It didn't matter. She focused on the threat before her, on Agent Milner.

Concentrating on her breathing, she studied her opponent's moves. His footwork was amazing, but she looked into his eyes. His eyes would reveal his next move.

Milner smiled. Jessie blinked. Something in her head snapped. His teeth were perfect. Harsh whiteness flashed in her mind. Rage consumed her. Jessie attacked.

Milner hesitated at the girl's sudden change. Jessie saw him look to the side, towards the other Agents. He lowered his hands. He didn't know what to do.

"Stop."

Jessie heard Phil's order, but she dismissed it. In a flash she was on Milner. He raised his hands to defend himself, but it was too late. Jessie landed a straight jab to the man's jaw. Milner staggered and Jessie sidestepped then thrust her foot out and down, buckling his knee. He grunted and dropped to the ground.

Jessie circled the fallen man, repositioning herself to drop to her knees. Stunned, Milner was defenseless. Grasping his wrist, Jessie wrapped her legs around his arm and hyperextended his limb.

Milner cried out in pain, tapping his free hand furiously on the grass. "I'm done."

Jessie didn't seem to hear. Instead she stretched her back, further immobilizing the Agent.

"Stop." Phil yelled. "Let him go. He's tapping."

Jessie felt hands on her shoulders, pulling her off. Snarling, she fought to maintain her grip on her adversary, but Phil managed to break her hold on his man. With a sneer, Jessie let go of Milner's wounded arm. Without thinking, she kicked her foot forward, connecting with Milner's face with a bone jarring impact. Milner rolled away, cradling his wounded arm, his forehead pressed against the ground. She saw blood dripping from his mouth instantly.

"Let go of me." Jessie screamed, struggling in Phil's grasp.

He didn't. Pulling her back, he placed distance between Jessie and Milner, giving Blake and Pickett the opportunity to assist their injured comrade.

Jessie's struggles weakened. When he felt there was enough separation between the two opponents, Phil let go of her, then quickly moved between her and his Agents, blocking her view. His hands were on her shoulders again as she sank to her knees. He felt her anger, saw the rage in her eyes.

"Jess." He attempted to bring her back. "Jessie, look at me. Calm down. What happened?"

Breathing heavily, Jessie pushed his hands away, quickly bounding up to her feet. Without a word she turned and stormed off, stopping a number of yards away. She sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands. Her posture told him she was crying.

Phil went to Milner. Pickett and Blake were already tending to the man, assessing the injuries to his arm and face.

"You okay?" Phil asked.

Milner nodded and waved his good hand at Phil, letting the Director know he could focus his attention on Jessie.

Slowly, Corbin went towards her. Crouching down by her side, he gently placed his arm around her shoulders. Jessie buried her head into his chest, her tears flowing freely and heavily.

"Jess, it's okay." He soothed, wrapping his other arm around her for comfort.

"I…I saw him." Jessie hiccupped between tears. "That…smile."

"It wasn't him, Jess." Phil said. "That wasn't the man that hurt you. That man can never hurt you again."

Jessie returned to crying. Phil didn't say anything more. He just held her tightly and let her cry. He didn't even notice the sky had darkened and it was starting to drizzle.

Jessie shed all her tears. She never let go of Corbin until she was completed drained. Her body suddenly ached. "I'm sorry, Phil. I thought I could handle this."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Jessie. I'm sorry I forced you into it."

"You didn't." Jessie replied. "I…I…"

"You don't have to say anything more."

Jessie pulled back and wiped her eyes. Looking up at Phil she saw nothing but love and concern in his face. She wanted to start crying again.

"Let's go inside. We don't need to do any more of this type of training, hon." Phil suggested.

"Will Milner be okay?" Jessie asked as Phil stood and helped her to her feet.

"He'll be fine."

"I want to apologize to him."

"Do so when you're ready. He won't hold anything against you, Jessie. Milner's a good man. He understands."

With a nod, Jessie wrapped her arms around him one more time, then separated. Phil kept an arm around her shoulders for support. Without any more words, they headed towards the house.

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"So how has Jessie been holding up?" Jade sipped her espresso.

The weather was cool, but they sat outside the little café that Jade had recommended. Race kept his back to the building, his eyes watching the passersby moving along the sidewalk. Jade had provided him with a firearm she had stashed at the house. A Walther PPK, chambered in .380. It only had one magazine, but it was enough to make Race feel comfortable in the foreign surroundings.

They'd finished their breakfast and were now enjoying some espressos. Even with his doubts, Race was glad for Jade's company. He didn't want to imagine where he'd be if we was still trying to work this mission solo.

"Jessie's good." Race replied. "Of course she's taking this entire thing very personal and she's been focusing her efforts on Jonny versus herself, but I know she'll be alright. She has people back home that support and love her and just want to see her get better."

"Jessie's a fighter." Jade nodded. "Just like her father."

Race smiled a little. "She's been through a lot over the years. More than she deserves. I really hope that when we find Jonny the two of them can restart their life together. I want my daughter to be happy and part of that is being with Jonny and being away from this life I've exposed her to."

"It's not a bad life, Race."

He shook his head. "No, but it's not what I want for her. Only if she chooses it, but I know her heart is set on science. I have Benton to thank for that."

"Speaking of Benton, how is he?"

"From what I'm told, he's holding up as best as he can. I haven't seen him since we departed from Pennsylvania and while I was initially hurt by him sending me away, I now understand why he did it. He's tired, Jade. He can't take these kinds of blows over and over again and think that everything will be alright. He already lost Rachel, he can't lose Jonny too."

"He won't." Jade said encouragingly. "Because you'll bring Jonny back to him."

"I hope so." Race muttered.

"I know so." Jade stated. Looking down the street, her eyes wandered to an approaching man. Race caught it and glanced casually in the same direction.

"My contact." Jade lowered her voice. "He said he'd meet us here."

"He doesn't have anything with him." Race observed.

"He won't. He'll give us a meet location where we can get what we need."

Race straightened his posture and placed his right hand on his thigh, close to his concealed firearm.

A minute later, the man walked up to them. Race took him in, immediately dismissing the man as a threat. He was small, maybe five feet five inches and skinny. His face had a solid tan from years of living in such a beautiful country, but age lines were permanently etched into his brow and around the corners of his eyes. His hair was still dark, but a large bald spot had already appeared on the back of his head. He wore simple clothing and wrung his hands nervously as he stood before them.

"Miss Jade," The man addressed. Race noted that his accent was not Italian; yet he couldn't place it immediately.

"Hello," Jade answered, giving the man a smile and indicating for him to take a seat. "I hope you've brought me some good news."

He did as she wanted. As he sat, he gave Race a nervous look. Scooting his chair closer to Jade, the man gave Race a wide berth.

Focusing back on the woman, the contact leaned forward on the table and lowered his voice. "I've made all of the arrangements. The meet will take place tomorrow morning." He pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket and handed it to Jade. "Here's the address."

"Tomorrow morning's not good enough." Race growled.

The man shook, his eyes moving between Race and Jade, unsure of how to take the white haired man's statement. Eventually he answered, "It is the earliest we can have everything you requested. And the location is far, you should depart immediately."

Jade eyed him for a moment, then opened the piece of paper. Frowning, she handed it to Race. Reading the address, Race looked at the man, "Bavaria?"

With a nod, he said, "Yes. We cannot move what you've requested across the border. It would arouse too much suspicion. But you can easily travel there by car."

Race gave Jade a sideways glance then snapped his fingers at the man. He blinked and looked at Race.

"Tell me about The Consortium."

The man visibly flushed, his eyes going wide for just a second. "The…what?"

"You know what I'm talking about. What can you tell me about the organization?"

"I know nothing." The man stammered. His hands were shaking. "Perhaps coming here was a mistake."

He tried to stand, but Jade nudged him back down. "Relax. Forget my friend asked that question."

Huffing, the man slowly nodded. "You speak of dangerous things."

"I'll pay you double for your troubles." Jade responded. In a show of good faith, she reached into her purse, withdrew some money and handed it to the man who quickly snatched it from her and shoved it into his pants pocket.

He stood, then leaned down, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "Be careful when you say that name. You never know who is watching. Meet me tomorrow at that location and the appropriate time. After that, I believe it would be in both our interests to severe any future business relations, Miss Jade."

She didn't answer and the man spun on his heel and departed, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Sighing, Jade gave Race a little smirk. "Thanks, Bannon. You just spooked one of my best contacts."

"Frankly, I don't give a shit." Race remarked. "I don't trust him."

"Neither do I, not fully, at least. But he's always delivered in the past. So trust me, handsome, okay?"

Race relaxed his posture. He really didn't have a choice at this point. "I do trust you, Jade."

Jade finished her espresso. Race did the same. Standing she said, "Let's head back to the house, collect our things and head out."

"We need a car." Race stated the obvious.

"I'll get us a car, don't worry about that." Jade laughed.

"Jezebel Jade is on the move." Race grinned, entwining her arm into his and leading her away from the café.

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Seated on the couch in the front room, Jessie watched wordlessly while Pickett held Milner steady.

"Take him to the hospital in town." Phil ordered.

"Phil, I'll be alright." Milner protested through the bandage he pressed against his mouth.

"I'm sure you will be, but I want a doctor to sign off on you. You need to be checked for a possible concussion. Your equilibrium is off."

"I'll take care of him and let you know." Pickett responded.

Heading out the door, Phil watched Milner get into Pickett's pickup truck and head off.

Jessie watched him close the door then come and sit down in the chair to the side of the couch. He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. Blake headed towards the kitchen.

"I'm sorry." Jessie mumbled, her eyes downcast.

"You don't have to be sorry, Jess." Phil stated. "This is my fault, not yours. I should have anticipated something like this happening."

Jessie looked up. "You're going to end this, aren't you?"

Phil sighed, his eyes tired. "Honestly, I'm thinking about it."

"Don't. Please, don't." Her plea sounded so childish and desperate to her own ears. She hated it.

"Jessie," He started.

"I need to continue, Phil. If nothing else this solidifies that I need to bring this nightmare to an end. Jonny needs me as much as I need him. You said it yourself, he's still out there and probably hurting more than I am. I didn't mean to hurt Agent Milner. I thought I had accepted what happened to me, but I realize now I just suppressed it."

Phil assimilated her words. They were quiet for some time. Elise padded into the room and set two cups of tea on the table between them. She left without a word, only giving Jessie a comforting smile.

Jessie wrapped her hands around the mug, the heat bleeding from the ceramic into her hands, warding the chill away from her heart.

When she spoke, she didn't look at Phil. "I allowed my rage to control me. I won't let that happen again."

She heard Phil make a sound of agreement. She continued to speak, "What I told you in the hospital was only partially true. What that man did to me happened…but it wasn't the only time and he wasn't the only one."

Phil didn't speak; he simply listened.

"After they took those pictures they blindfolded me and led me to another room. I couldn't see anything and I shivered from the cold air that blew against my body. I was so frightened. I'd never experienced fear like that. Not even when Drazen's men held me in Baltimore. I could hear them speaking. They were the same men that always guarded Jonny and I plus at least one other. I could smell their sweat, their stench. At least one of them was smoking."

Phil placed a hand over his eyes for a moment. His own anger was beginning to surface, but he pushed it down and let her continue. Jessie needed to get this out.

She glanced in his direction. Phil's sorrow for his goddaughter deepened; her beautiful green eyes were not haunted, they were lost.

"They laughed at me as I stood there, naked, trying to cover myself up. A rough hand slapped my arm from my chest. He grumbled something about how my nipples were…hard. It was from the cold, but he said it was because I must have been turned on by him."

Phil saw tears rolling down her cheeks. He felt sick.

"He grabbed my breasts. He made it hurt. I cried out in pain and he squeezed harder. He slowly unzipped his pants. I'll never forget that sound. I could feel his breath on my cheek, could smell it. He reeked like whiskey. I wanted to vomit. He pushed me down onto the floor and climbed on top of me. He was heavy and muscular. I felt like he was going to crush me beneath his weight. I heard one of his friends laughing again. I wanted to fight, but I was frozen. I couldn't move. His hands were so strong, so brutal. When he…did it…I felt a part of me die. All I could hear was his grunts and moans. It hurt so bad, I thought it would never end. When he…finished I cried. He whispered in my ear that I made him feel good. I cried so hard. He laughed with his friends again. They left me on that cold, hard floor….crying. Broken. Alone. All I wanted to do was curl up and die. Then he did it again; his brutality was worse the second time."

Phil moved from the chair to the couch. He sat down next to her. It was risky, but he knew she needed support. He didn't touch her. But just like outside, she buried her head in his chest; her hands balled into fists, clenching his shirt. At that moment, Phil was the closest thing she had to a father and he imagined she needed him to act in Race's place, at least just for this moment. He embraced her then, not wanting to let go, no wanting her to feel alone.

Mumbling against his chest, Phil felt Jessie's grip tighten. "So you know the truth now. You know what the doctor suspected. When I missed my cycle I took one of those over the counter tests. I didn't tell my mom or Doctor Quest when it was confirmed. I didn't know what to do. I was so frightened. Frightened because I couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was Jonny's. We always used protection, but the thought was still there, lingering, the _'what if'_. Two weeks ago I made the decision. I'm eighteen now and didn't need my parent's consent. I went into Rockport by myself and had the procedure."

Her tears started back up. Phil even felt his own eyes getting wet.

"That's why I said I could never be with Jonny again. I want to, but I can't."

Phil finally spoke. "You cannot let what that man did to you stop you from having a life with Jonny."

Jessie heaved. She didn't know she had so many tears inside of her. "There was no way I could keep it."

"He raped you, Jess." Phil didn't like saying it like that, but there was no other way to put it. The only comfort he had was the knowledge that he and Race killed the men that did this to Jessie; he prayed that it was Race that slit the throat of the man that raped his little Ponchita. "I cannot imagine your pain from making that decision, but you have to know that no one will ever blame you for it."

She nodded against his chest. He held her, not letting her go until she started to pull away from him. Moving his arms, Jessie sat back and wiped her tears. Looking at him, she said, "There's more. I'm just now remembering it, but there's more."

"You don't have to keep going through this right now, Jess." Phil said. He felt physically exhausted himself.

"No, that's not what I mean." Jessie sniffed. "I remember now. I heard them talking…in between. One of the men said he didn't like what they were doing to me. It would have been nice if he had tried to stop it, but of course he didn't."

Corbin agreed.

"They argued and eventually I heard the door open and close. I thought they'd left me in there alone again, but two were still there. I think the man that raped me got upset and left. The two talked and one helped me off the floor and put a blanket over me. I was surprised by his concern, but I think he was scared of the other man and that's why he didn't try to stop him earlier. He and the second man led me back to the first room so I could dress. I heard them talking as they guided me down the hallway. I heard a name."

"What name did you hear?" Phil asked softly.

"They said the new buyer wasn't going to like it that I was damaged now; he had wanted me for himself. They sounded scared and suggested getting rid of me so they wouldn't have to deal with him. They said they'd tell him I died accidently."

"Who was this new buyer, Jess? What was his name?"

Jessie shuddered. Reaching out she took Phil's hand and squeezed it so hard he felt a couple of his knuckles pop. "They called him The Viper."

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Having departed Moscow first thing the following morning, Temple drove all day and through the night. Jonny had offered to drive, but Greg refused. He gave no explanation, but Jonny assumed Greg didn't want to share the location of The Consortium's base with him. Once again, Temple was keeping Jonny in the dark and while Jonny didn't like it, he knew that arguing would get him nowhere. He'd already seen and felt Temple's wrath when the man felt he was being cornered and it was something Jonny did not care to witness again anytime soon.

Temple was also taking back roads, not the highways that winded through the different countries. Jonny eventually lost track of where they were all together and had fallen asleep for some time before Temple roused him from his slumber with a light slug to his thigh.

"Wake up, Hotshot. We're here."

"Finally." Jonny grumbled, rubbing an eye with a knuckle.

Looming high against the clear blue sky was what Jonny could only describe as a fortress. Set atop a high, flat hill, the ancient castle appeared impenetrable from the ground. The hill angled sharply on all sides that Jonny could see. A large defensible wall constructed from dark stones encircled the fortress that peeked out from behind the structure. Narrowing his eyes, Jonny peered at the wall and thought he saw movement along the top.

' _Sentries.'_ He told himself.

Temple drove the SUV up the path, the engine whining in protest against the sharp incline of the road. Reaching the top, Jonny saw the gates set into the wall open, allowing their vehicle to pass. Pulling into the courtyard, Temple parked the SUV next to a row of tactical military vehicles that sat under the cover of camouflage netting.

Jonny stepped out of the vehicle. The air was frigid so high up. Shuddering against the cold, Jonny gazed up at the fortress before him. An old castle, Jonny imagined it once belonged to a Lord or King, but not knowing exactly where he was, he couldn't begin to venture an accurate guess. Armed men moved about the courtyard, checking vehicles or carrying crates of equipment. To Jonny it appeared they were preparing for some sort of attack or assault.

Besides the modern vehicles and weapons, Jonny also spied a cluster of communication equipment high atop the fortress' tallest spire. He counted at least three different types of satellite dishes and a number of radio aerial and antennas.

"Let's go, Hotshot." Temple grumbled.

Falling in step with his mentor, Jonny entered the castle. It was brighter than he expected, with modern light fixtures lining the ceiling. Straight ahead of them, across the entrance floor, was a grand staircase made of stone. Jonny was amazed by the detailed engravings etched into the blocks. Large tapestries hung from the walls, depicting the coat of arms of a number of different households. The largest hanging was dead center, directly above the first landing of the staircase. Emblazoned in white on a field of deep purple fabric was the strange symbol of The Consortium.

Greg continued up the stairs, the clank of his boots resounding off the walls; Jonny imagined Temple was walking heavily on purpose. When they reached the top of stairs, he turned to the left, following the path of the wrap around balcony towards a set of large wooden doors, flanked by two armed guards.

The men snapped to attention when Temple approached. He ignored them and pushed the doors open.

Jonny followed into the heart of The Consortium's command center. Modern technology was everywhere. Banks of workstations and monitors lined the deep-set walls, men and women seated at some, working diligently at whatever their assigned tasks were. Jonny caught a glimpse of one of the young men, it was the boy Andrew. Jonny had completely forgotten about him. Andrew met Jonny's startled gaze, but quickly turned away, returning to his work.

A large conference table sat in the center of the room. The polished wood was old, but well kept. Jonny thought it was probably original to the castle before The Consortium had taken control of the structure. Intricately designed chairs encircled the table. Made of the same rick wood as the table, each had a high back with different designs carved into the tops. Some depicted animals while others displayed scenes of trees or castles. None of the chairs were occupied. Walking towards the table, Jonny heard a low mumble of voices from the people in the room. Glancing about, he saw they had turned from their work and were watching the duo.

Again, Temple ignored them all. His confidence and arrogance pouring from his body as he walked. Reaching the table, he slapped his meaty hand on the end. The sound echoed off the walls.

"Well, look who it is." A voice laughed from the shadows. Stepping forward, the man revealed himself.

Jonny felt his heart skip a beat. It couldn't be. Temple leered at the man, then looked at Jonny, not surprised by the boy's reaction.

"Argus Grimm," Temple addressed the masked man as he came forward to stand before the pair. "You're a worthless son of a bitch, you know that, right?"

"Dangerous words, my friend." Grimm replied.

"You had no idea that I-1 had an Agent in Moscow attending the conference, did you?" Temple accused.

Grimm shrugged, causing Temple to grunt and pull his stare off of the man before he lashed out and hit him.

Grimm turned to stare at Jonny. His black trench coat, wide brimmed hat and gruesome death's mask were just as Jonny remembered them.

"Rage." Jonny mumbled, shaking his head. "Ezekiel Rage. How? You're dead."

"The book of Rage has not yet determined my time to die, young Quest." Rage replied. His evil grin made all the more gruesome by the lack of lips on his burned and disfigured face.

"So this is The Consortium?" Jonny had to force the words from his mouth.

"Not just us." Temple replied with a grin. As if on cue another person from Jonny's past emerged on the other side of the table.

"Hello there, brat." Julia quipped. Her short auburn hair and womanly curves were just as Jonny remembered. "You're lucky Greg got his hands on you before I did or else you wouldn't be standing here as one of us now. Don't think I've forgotten what you and that bitchy little redhead did to Jeramiah."

"Watch how you speak of Karla, woman." Rage snarled. Jonny picked up on the tension, Rage still believed Jessie was his long dead daughter.

Julia snorted and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Any other surprises?" Jonny sneered at Temple.

"Well you already know about Kreed, who I notice isn't here. Where is he, Argus?"

"Lucius left on his own mission." Rage answered vaguely.

"Speaking of missions," Another voice from the shadows laughed.

Jonny froze. He knew that voice and a moment later the man appeared and confirmed Jonny's worst fears. His father's enemies, Race's enemies, had banded together.

"We have quite a number of fresh developments for you, Mister Temple. All regarding the pesky family known as the Bannons."

"Good." Temple grunted in reply.

The man turned his attention to Jonny, "I must admit, I had my doubts about you, Jonathan, but it appears Temple's work has surpassed all of my expectations."

Jonny's eyes were wide. "Zin."

Doctor Zin laughed and one of his daughters came out of the shadows to stand behind her father. Jonny didn't know where the other one was, he couldn't see her anywhere.

He felt Temple's hand on the back of his neck, just like he did back in the training camp. His fingers dug into Jonny's flesh; Greg was worried that Jonny might relapse and was preparing to take action if necessary.

"In the flesh, my boy." Zin proclaimed, raising his arms in a gesture of arrogant victory. "And together we will bring the world to its knees. Nothing can stop us now. No one can break us apart. Not Intelligence One or Race Bannon. And especially not Doctor Benton Quest. Together we shall destroy them all and stand victorious over their lifeless corpses. The world will cower in fear and obedience when it hears our name. We are The Consortium."

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 **To Be Continued…**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Moving into the kitchen of the quiet farmhouse, Jessie found Phil and Agent Blake speaking softly over cups of coffee. They paused in the discussion when Jessie entered.

Relief had washed over Jessie the evening prior when she heard that Agent Milner was going to be alright. She had broken his nose when she'd kicked him in the face, but his arm and wrist were only sprained, no broken bones there. Phil had ordered Milner to get some rest back at the hotel and Pickett had stayed with the other man to watch over him in case his condition worsened.

Corbin had wanted to suspend the rest of yesterday's training after the incident with Milner and Jessie's revelation. Jessie had pleaded with him not to and in the end they had settled on working on map reading and land navigation skills. It kept them out of the rain and also served to slow the pace and give Jessie the time she needed to collect her thoughts. By the end of the night, Jessie had returned to her normal self and she was happy that Phil seemed confident they could continue. She did notice that he kept a more watchful eye on her, however, but after what she told him about the rape, she didn't blame him nor did she really mind; it gave her comfort. The difference between Corbin's approach and her mother's was that Corbin didn't push her to talk which actually made Jessie more comfortable opening up to him.

So now, the next morning, Jessie felt ready to face whatever was planned for the day. Grabbing a cup of java for herself from the coffee maker, she sat down with the pair and took a sip of the steaming brew. She frowned and set the cup down.

"What's wrong, Jess?" Phil asked when he saw the change on her face.

She made a 'blah' sound and stuck her tongue out. "This coffee is horrible."

Blake burst out into a laugh as Phil threw his hands up in mock hurt. "Hey, that's how we make it at Headquarters!"

"Well, remind me never to come work for you at Headquarters." Jessie shot back with a smile.

Phil brightened; happy to see Jessie's old self once again. Yesterday had been hard for all of them, so a new persona for a new day was refreshing for the Director to see.

"Well, drink up because we have a full day today." Phil stood and downed the remaining contents of his own cup. "Get something to eat and meet me out back in thirty minutes. I'm going to go check on the horses."

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"Andrew, when did you get here?" Jonny asked. Temple was off to the side, having a heated discussion with Rage. Jonny took the opportunity to talk to the boy he had completely forgotten about after leaving the training camp months ago.

"Kreed brought me here after we shut down the camp." Andrew answered.

Jonny noticed the teen had regained much of the weight he'd lost during their captivity and subsequent training. He also wasn't sickly and pale like before; all in all it appeared The Consortium had actually improved Andrew's health and physical well-being.

"What do they have you doing?" Jonny questioned, looking around the equipment Andrew operated.

"Communications." Andrew stated, turning some knobs on one of the radio stacks. "I'm in charge of maintaining the relay antenna here that allows our people out on patrol to communicate not only back here to us, but to other groups in the field."

"Where are we?" Jonny asked.

"That I don't know for sure." Andrew lowered his voice. "We aren't supposed to ask those types of questions. But..."

"But...what?" Jonny pushed.

"You should be able to find out. I mean, everyone here knows who you are and that you are Temple's prodigy."

"I'm not his prodigy."

"Bull." Andrew smirked. "Look..."

Before Andrew could complete his sentence, Temple shouted across the room. "Get over here, Jonny."

Jonny sighed. Looking at Andrew, Jonny spoke through the side of his mouth. "We'll talk more later."

The moment Jonny rejoined Temple, the former Agent had his hand on the back of Jonny's neck. "Follow us."

Jonny nodded. Temple led him out of the main operations center, never once letting up on his hold. None of the men spoke, they simply strode down the halls of the ancient fortress. Jonny wondered how these men were able to function as a team. His encounters with each in the past, except Temple who was really Race's enemy, had given Jonny the impression that none would ever be able to work side by side, effectively sharing power and control. If nothing else, it was an interesting case study in the minds of the criminally obsessed.

Descending deeper into the bowels of the castle, Jonny felt dread creeping into his blood. With a huff, he pushed the feeling and the memories the cold brought to his mind away. The thought suddenly occurred to him that he was being led somewhere by men that up until a couple hours ago were his deadly nemesis and he was completely defenseless.

Temple must have felt Jonny's reaction. Stopping, he gave Rage a look that they would catch up. Once the demented man continued on, Temple looked at Jonny and asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Shaking his head, Jonny peered down the passageway into the darkness.

"I'm not buying that." Temple replied.

Jonny's shoulders sagged. "I guess...I just had a flashback, that's all."

"From when the traffickers held you?"

Jonny nodded. "This place kind of reminded me of where they held us and it just made me think of the things that happened there." He couldn't hide the shame in his voice.

"Don't be ashamed of that, Hotshot." Greg replied, picking up on Jonny's tone. "Shit happens."

"That's an odd way to put it." Jonny answered.

Temple shrugged. "Sorry, kid. I'm not big on the talking about feelings and shit like that. You should know that by now. But you should also know that I saved you from those assholes and while this place might remind you of that time, it's not the same place."

"I know that, Greg." Jonny rolled his eyes.

"Well, stop being all weird about it then." Temple laughed, giving Jonny a gently push, getting him moving again.

Two right turns and five minutes later, Temple pushed through a random door set into the left wall of their current passage. Jonny squinted against the bright light beyond the threshold.

The interior of the room was sparse. The walls were made of the same stone as the rest of the castle, but they were smooth, worn down over the years from the perpetual dampness that hung in the air. Rage was already present, but there were others too. Jonny saw Julia hanging out in one corner, sneering with contempt at the blonde. Neither Zin or his daughters were present, and Jonny had yet to see the second twin since he'd arrived. There was also a man.

He was a pudgy man with dark, slick hair and beady eyes. A large yellowish bruise covered one side of his face. He paced nervously, wringing his hands as he did. He was sweating profusely, causing Jonny to turn his nose up in disgust at the stench the man produced from the mixture of perspiration and his overbearing cologne. His clothes were wrinkled and hung slovenly from his bulging frame. Overall, he was a disgusting pimple of a man that made Jonny want to puke.

"Basilio, calm yourself." Julia stated with her typical arrogant smirk once all were present.

"I didn't know." Martucci stopped pacing to stare down the occupants of the room. "How was I to know?"

"What didn't he know?" Temple asked.

"Martucci here let Bannon escape with a number of our financial records." Julia spat.

"Fool." Temple grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's all you have to say?" Julia shot back at the ex-agent.

"That's not my problem and as for Bannon, I'm not worried about him. I'm taking care of him."

"Like you took care of Phil Corbin?" Rage huffed.

Temple uncrossed his arms and stared down his disfigured colleague. "I'm sick and tired of your remarks, Grimm. My guys fucked up, I admit that. They won't do it again."

Jonny watched the exchange and he imagined from Rage's body language that if he possessed normal eyelids, he would be rolling his eyes beneath them at Greg's reply.

"Silence." The door behind them opened. Doctor Zin entered the interrogation room. "That doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me." Temple shot back, unimpressed by Zin's extravagant entrance.

"This is not about you and your desire for revenge, Mister Temple." Zin lectured. "Not anymore."

"You're worried because this weasel let Bannon get away with some invoices? You think Bannon's smart enough to decipher them? Well, like I said, you don't have to worry because I'm taking care of Bannon as we speak. He won't know what hit him." Temple laughed viciously.

"What?" Jonny mumbled.

Temple snapped his jaw shut and gave Jonny a deathly look.

"Thank goodness." Martucci mumbled, relieved that it seemed his blunder had been saved by Temple.

"Don't think you will not be punished for this, Signor Martucci." Zin replied. "I'm sending you back with a warning..."

"Fuck a warning." Temple barked. Before anyone could react, Temple pulled his sidearm, aimed it point blank at the startled Martucci and fired. Three high powered .45 caliber rounds blasted from Temple's FNX, tearing into Martucci and sending the fat man careening backwards. He smacked against the stone walls, his head cracking upon impact. It didn't matter, he was dead from the being peppered with lead before his skull bounced from the wall.

"What the hell, Temple?" Julia spat in shock.

"We didn't need him anymore. He fucked up one too many times." Temple grumbled. Jonny noticed he didn't yet holster his sidearm.

"One time. He messed up one time." Julia countered.

"One time is enough." Temple shot back. "If you all want to tolerate failure and incompetence then so be it, but not me. That is not what The Consortium is about. We need strength." He waved his weapon at the man he'd just killed. "Not sniveling, cowardly pedophiles. If anyone has a problem with that..." Temple uncurled and curled his fingers around the grip of his pistol, making the rest of his statement blatantly clear.

Julia leered, but didn't not say any more. Rage and Zin either approved of or didn't care about Temple's outburst; either that or they didn't want to entice any more of the man's wrath at the moment.

"My daughter is surrounded at the safe house in Moscow." Doctor Zin finally said, no longer concerned with what had just happened. "I need someone to go and retrieve her and the briefcase. Intelligence One Agents have the apartment complex under surveillance."

"I will go and retrieve your daughter, Doctor Zin." Rage stated, catching Jonny off-guard. Rage had always been about himself, but perhaps his obsession with his own lost child was enough to try and the Mongolian scientist's daughter.

"Very well." Zin nodded his thanks to the other man.

"I will eliminate the Agents that stand in the way. The book of Rage demands their executions." Rage laughed manically.

"Let's go, Hotshot. We're done here." Temple gave Jonny a shove towards the door.

"Mister Temple," Zin called out, causing the man to paused. "I assume you will take care of those other matters as well?"

"I will, Doctor Zin." Temple nodded. "As much as I wish I could be in multiple places at once, I can't. This time I'll ensure I send the right crews to complete the jobs."

"Indeed, see that you do." Zin gave Temple and Jonny a crooked smile. "And do not forget about Van Brandt."

"I haven't forgotten." Temple nodded. "Anything else?"

Zin shook his head. Without saying any more, Temple pushed Jonny out the door.

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Jessie didn't know where the day had gone. The morning had consisted of MOUT training. Phil had run her through a number of scenarios, to include ones similar to capture the flag and a hostage rescue mission. They'd used training ammunition, but the rounds still left marks on the targets for him to assess her progress. He'd told her she'd done exceptional while grumbling that he wished some of his newer Agents were as accurate as she was. She'd wanted to stay on the course, but they had stopped for lunch and Phil had needed time to work on some information he'd received from the U.N. and his team back at Headquarters. Jessie had taken a nap.

Now it was late afternoon and she stood next to her mentor at the rear of the horse barn. Blake had gone to the hotel to check on Milner and bring him and Pickett some food. Phil told her to take the rest of the night off and that he'd see them in the morning.

"Here's how this scenario works," Phil handed Jessie the modified Sig Sauer 556 SBR rifle as he spoke. It was a training version of the weapon she had excelled with at the range and the MOUT training. He of course had his modified M14. "Whoever gets a kill shot first wins."

"That's it?" Jessie asked. She loaded the rifle with a magazine filled with training rounds. Similar to paintball, except the rifles they employed looked and functioned like the real thing.

"That's it." Phil nodded. "I'll head out first. Twenty minutes later, you move out. Remember what you've learned so far. Always be cognizant of your surroundings. Don't rush and if you get a shot, don't hesitate. Hesitation will get you killed."

"I understand." Jessie answered. She took a number of deep breaths, steadying her nerves. In the short time she's had to train, her confidence had grown by leaps and bounds, even with the unfortunate incident with Agent Milner. But she was going up against a professional. Corbin may be the Director of I-1, but she knew he was still an effective and skilled Agent, recognizing the need to stay sharp on his tactical abilities.

Nestling the butt of the rifle into the pocket of her shoulder she asked, "So this is a hunt or be hunted type scenario? It reminds me of that story, _The Most Dangerous Game_."

"I'd say that's a fairly accurate comparison." Phil answered.

Studying the Director, she tried to read his body language in an attempt to ascertain his thought process and his plan of attack. But Phil was good. He was a master at masking his emotions, probably from countless hours dealing with politicians, and Jessie couldn't get a good read on him.

He must have noticed her inquisitive, yet questioning look. He hefted his rifle, resting it on his shoulder and said, "Remember why we are doing this, Jess. This is for Jonny. The people that are holding him are sadistic killers. You have to be prepared physically, but also mentally to eliminate the threat the moment it presents itself. We cannot save Jonny any other way. Your love for him should be what motivates you, what guides you."

Slowly, she nodded. "All's fair in love and war as they say, huh?"

A little smile spread across his face, "That's one way to look at it."

With that Corbin headed off into the woods.

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"Father, look at this." Hadji called across the lab.

"Did you find something, Hadji?" Benton's voice was hopeful, he needed a boost. Even with Hadji's assistance the last few days, they'd discovered very little about the drug.

"Perhaps," Hadji nodded. Benton lowered his eyes to the microscope while Hadji continued to speak. "I thought perhaps we were not having any success determining the components that made up this drug, other than those we'd already discovered, because we were looking for known or common substances. Narcotics that would be easily obtainable from over the counter medications or even black market and street drugs."

"Go on." Benton muttered, adjusting the dials on the tool. "I'm listening."

"So, I decided we needed to look elsewhere and once I did that, I believe I've isolated one of the main ingredients in this mixture. I have separated it onto the slide you are studying."

Benton nodded, his eyes glued to the lenses of Hadji's microscope. "Did you run any tests yet?"

"I did." Hadji answered. Benton stood to face his son. Hadji handed the scientist an iPad. "Here are the results. Do you know what this is?"

Benton's face dissolved into a defeated frown. "This can't be. Did you double check your calculations?"

"Of course." Hadji answered, "What is it, father? What's wrong?"

Opening his mouth to answer, Benton was interrupted when Estella entered the lab. The woman made her way straight for the father and son pair. Benton watched her cautiously, knowing she'd had a number of significant mood swing ever since Jessie left. Ready for another self-loathing tantrum, Benton was surprised when Estella appeared calm and refreshed. Her face was bright and she actually was wearing make-up and had her hair styled. She looked...happy.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Estella stated. "I just wanted to let you both know that I'm heading into town for lunch and to run some errands. Is there anything you need?"

Benton took a moment to compose himself. He'd been ready to combat the woman, but now that she was actually being pleasant he had to adjust his game plan. "No, I don't need anything. Hadji?"

"No, I am fine. Thank you, Estella."

Estella nodded. "Alright then. I'll see you both later."

"Estella," Benton reached forward and touched her arm. "I must say, you look very well."

"Thank you, Benton." Estella gave him a warm smile. "I feel well."

The two men watched her depart. "That was strange." Benton mumbled.

Hadji knew about Estella's struggles. He had no desire to speak ill of the woman so he shrugged and asked, "The sample, father?"

"Oh yes." Benton nodded. "I need to make some calls, one of which needs to be to I-1."

"Okay..."

"I have no reason to doubt that your conclusions are one hundred present accurate, son. Which means this information is quite disconcerting."

Dialing the number he'd been given by Agent Dugger, Benton placed the phone on speakerphone and set it on the table. A few rings in, the call was answered by the Cajun.

"Yes, Doctor Quest?" Dugger asked.

"Agent Dugger, Hadji managed to separate another of the drugs that make up the mixture your team recovered in Richmond."

"What is it?" Dugger asked, his thick Cajun accent perking up with interest.

"The drug is called dioxaprozaim. It was used to treat people exposed to chemical and nerve gas poisoning."

"Was?" Hadji asked, catching the use of his father's wording.

"The FDA approved its use, however it wasn't until a number of years later that some people began to have side effects from the drug."

"What kind of side effects, Doctor?" Dugger asked.

"Headaches, emotional and mental breakdowns similar to bi-polar disorder, loss of feeling in limbs, heart palpitations. Some patients even had internal bleeding and developed tumors. The FDA eventually pulled the drug, but many that had been exposed from long term use of the medication already displayed many of the more severe side effects. A number of patients died from the drug itself, not from the nerve gas exposure the drug was supposed to treat."

"Jesus," Dugger mumbled.

"If the FDA pulled the medication, how is it that it is being used by The Consortium in this mixture? And why?" Hadji asked.

"Just like any drug, I'm sure they can get it on the black market." Benton explained. "As to why, well damage caused by nerve gas and chemical poisoning is usually irreversible. Dioxaprozaim was developed more to provide relief from the pain than as an actual cure. It, combined with procaine and LSD, appears to have created a powerful mind control narcotic."

"Or at least something that makes the person taking the drug susceptible to suggestions." Dugger stated. "Doctor Quest, in regards to that, I do have some bad news."

"What's happened?"

"Timothy Sterns, one of the men we arrested in Richmond...the more brutal of the two men," Dugger explained, "we were prepping him for transport and he had a grand-mal seizure."

"Did he survive?" Benton asked.

"He did, but he's in a coma. We have him under guard at Bethesda. I've already sent an update to Director Corbin about the incident. Do you think this drug might have caused Sterns' seizure?"

"Possibly," Benton mused, stroking his chin. "Or the withdrawals from not being fed the drug could also have been the cause."

"He had no medical or family history of epilepsy or seizures." Dugger explained. Benton swore the man sounded upset. "We had no idea it would happen."

Benton assumed Dugger and his team may have been on the receiving end of an ass-chewing from Phil in regards to Sterns' safety and that Dugger was looking for some sort of reassurance. "Don't worry, Pete. These things can sprout up for no reason and with no warning signs. Like you said, it was probably a direct result of either prolonged use of the drug or the sudden absence of it from Sterns' system."

"We are keeping a close eye on the other prisoner and have been administering several tests to him to ensure the same thing doesn't happen."

"A wise move, Agent Dugger."

"I'll relay your information to Director Corbin." Dugger spoke.

"Thanks, Pete."

"I'll call you back soon, Doctor." Dugger stated then hung up.

"Well, hopefully this information can create a lead." Benton stated.

"How so, father?" Hadji asked.

"Well, there can't be that many people that were given dioxaprozaim. Since it is a controlled substance we might be able to narrow down the search of those who were treated with the initial drug." Shaking his head, he added, "It's just sad. Dioxaprozaim was developed to help people, but in the end it just made things worse and in some cases, people died."

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"I'm disappointed, Jade," Race chuckled. "I would have expected a much more luxurious vehicle out of you."

"It's a BMW, handsome," Jade laughed. "What more do you want?"

"You could have at least stolen one of the new M4 models."

"You want to ride in style and raise suspicion or ride is style and remain low key. Damn, Bannon, have you been out of the game that long?"

Race closed the trunk of the BMW after tossing their small bags in the back. They didn't have much, hence the need to meet Jade's contact in Bavaria, but she did have some clothes and smaller items. The bag also contained the laptop from the safe house.

"I guess after driving that Gumpert down from Frankfurt I got a little used to a high end lifestyle." Race got in behind the driver's seat while Jade sat in the passenger seat.

"Well, ask Benton for a raise when you go back to work for him." Jade remarked with a grin. "Because you know if you stay with I-1 you'll never make the big bucks on a Government salary."

"That's for damn sure." Race smirked. Starting the engine and throwing the car into gear, he headed down the street, making his way towards the highway.

"And neither pays as well as mine." Jade shot back.

"Of that I have no doubt, gorgeous." Race smiled at her. Turning the conversation back to business, he added, "So do you know where we're going?"

"According to the address my man gave us, we're heading to a small town just west of Bayreuth."

"Well, get comfortable. He wasn't kidding when he said we had a long drive. It figures we're going that far north into the German region."

"We can make it well before nightfall, find a quiet little hotel somewhere and figure out our game plan." Jade suggested.

"I want to stake out the meet location tonight." Race replied. "I need to assess the ground. I'm not walking in there tomorrow completely blind."

"I guess you haven't been out of the game that long, huh?" jade quipped.

"When it comes to protecting my ass, I want to be prepared."

"When it comes to protecting your fine ass, Bannon, I want you to be prepared too." Jade teased.

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An hour later, Jessie stalked through the forest. Dampness clung to her surroundings creating a misty fog that circled around her legs. Scanning the trees, she watched for signs of movement. It was obvious that Phil had not traversed the woods on the trail, there was no sign of boot prints in the mud.

Jessie veered off the trail. Crouching down next to a large oak tree, she withdrew the map she'd been provided. Studying the terrain, she knew she was still within the designated training course.

A snap of a branch startled her, causing Jess to lift her eyes from the map. A family of deer stared at her a few meters off to her right. Sighing, she was mesmerized by the peacefulness the wildlife provided. Smiling, she watched as one of the deer's ears perked up. It twisted its head, then bolted deeper into the woods, startled into flight.

Jessie took note. She pocketed the map, then got down on her stomach. Always a bit of a tomboy, crawling through the mud was no bother to the dedicated redhead. Inching forward, she came up behind a bramble of berry bushes. She steadied her breathing. She knew she was at a disadvantage in these woods. Corbin had grown up here, at least in the summers as a kid, and he trained his Agents here. He probably knew the terrain like the back of his hand. Jessie would have to get creative if she wanted to get the drop on her opponent. It was a lesson he imparted on her earlier in the week; more often than not, she'd probably find herself in a location that was completely foreign to her and in order to survive and complete the mission, she'd have to quickly assess the situation and make immediate, on the spot decisions on how to react.

She waited. It felt like an eternity, but nothing happened. The forest was still. _'Probably spooked by another animal.'_ Jessie thought of the family of deer.

Spying an alcove created by the overhang of a number of trees, Jessie decided to head in that direction. According to the map, the ground would start to rise up ahead and if she could get to higher ground, she might be able to spot Phil as he moved.

Moving up to a crouch, Jessie did a quick 360 degree scan. Again, nothing. She was convinced that Phil wasn't in the immediate area. Popping up to a standing position, Jessie made her way as quickly, but as quietly towards the cluster of trees.

Reaching the area, she frowned. The forest grew darker, an effect from the thick canopy of branches and leaves that had yet to fall. Her feet made a squishing sound in the mud and she winced; the noise sounded so loud in the quiet of her surroundings.

She'd only taken a number of steps into the dark when she heard the shot. Spinning, she felt the paintball round graze her thigh. The impact hurt, she grimaced and dropped to a knee. Another shot rang out and smacked into her left shoulder. She faltered and her weapon was flung from her grasp from the shocking impact.

Scrambling, she went for her dropped rifle, taking her eyes off of her surroundings for just a moment.

Phil burst from his hiding spot. Rushing her, he kept his weapon raised. He closed the distance before Jessie's mind knew what was happening. She only had a moment to act. Abandoning her attempt to retrieve her weapon, she dropped to her knees. As soon as Phil was within reach, she vaulted upward, grabbed his weapon in both her hands and dropped to her back. Planting her feet in the man's midsection, she used his weight and momentum against him and flung him over her head. He came crashing down hard, his back smacking against a fallen tree trunk.

He'd lost his own rifle thanks to Jessie's judo move. But he was back on his feet in a heartbeat and charging once again. Jessie was up, planting her feet she studied the Director's moves. He came upon her within seconds and swung a vicious right hook, but with an open palm, towards her head. Jessie crouched, then jabbed forward. Her blow connected, just below his sternum, knocking the wind from his lungs. Jessie knew he was in shape and the hit to his muscled midsection, while injuring him, actually sent a stinging pain through her wrist and up her arm.

She brushed the pain away. Phil recovered and sidestepped hastily in an attempt to circle around. Jessie met his movements and when he lunged forward to attack, she feinted to the side. Phil anticipated the move however, in fact, he'd planned for her reaction and he countered by spinning around, bringing his arm straight out to impact with Jessie's shoulder. She dropped into a puddle of wet, sucking mud.

Phil didn't give her time to recover. Instead he pulled his training knife. Turning it in his hand, he held it backwards, the length of the blade parallel with his forearm. Swinging in a downward arc, he slashed at Jessie's chest.

Jessie rolled towards him. His attacked missed. Kicking her legs out, she wrapped Corbin's legs up in hers. Rotating her hips, she jerked her legs against his, the result of the move being Corbin losing his balance and coming down hard on the ground. Jessie watched as the back of his head bounced off the hard ground of the wet forest floor. He dropped the blade.

Jessie knew she only had a moment while Corbin was momentarily stunned. Scrambling forward, she snatched the knife out of the mud. She climbed on top of him, pinning him to the ground. She drove her knee into Phil's groin, but did not actually hit him, only applying enough pressure to stop him from moving. Jessie pressed the edge of the training blade to his throat.

Arms stretched out at his sides, Phil dropped his head back into the mud when Jessie pushed the blade harder against his neck. He was about to smile at her victory, but the look in the redhead's eyes gave him pause. He saw dedication and determination; he saw Race Bannon in her eyes.

"Jessie, it's over. You won." He moved his hand cautiously and grabbed her wrist, but not hard. He pulled her arm and the blade from his throat.

"Jess," He said again. "Let me up, hon."

Jessie blinked a number of times. Shaking her head, she climbed off him. He watched her inhale and exhale. She reached down and offered her hand to him. Taking it, Phil let Jessie help him to his feet.

She handed the knife back to him, which he immediately sheathed. He picked up their rifles and handed Jessie's back to her.

"How'd I do?" Jessie finally asked.

Phil placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, guiding her back towards the trail that would take them back to the farmhouse. "Good."

"Except you did get two shots off on me." Jessie said, touching the wet paint that stained her shirt.

"I shot you like that on purpose," Phil explained. "I wanted to see how you'd react to a change in the scenario."

"And?" Jessie prodded.

Phil huffed. "Better than I expected. You adjusted your plan of attack appropriately and you didn't hesitate to take me out when I was down and dazed. I do appreciate you not kicking me in the balls."

"I figured I didn't need to go that far." Jessie laughed a little.

"When it's a bad guy, knee him so hard his nuts end up in his throat."

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Race was still on edge. Even after reconning the warehouse the evening prior, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. There were plenty entry and exit points that could be utilized for a hasty getaway, but that also meant that an adversary could sneak up on them too.

Race stayed on high alert.

"Would you relax, Bannon?" Jade groaned. "You already spooked my guy once, I don't want you doing it again."

"I won't," Race stated through pursed lips. "As long as he doesn't give me a reason."

Jade rolled her eyes. Pushing through the side door, she led him into warehouse.

Race had noticed the grounds outside the building had been neglected and from the looks of the interior of the structure, it had been abandoned years ago. Crates were strewn about randomly across the wide open floor. An overturned forklift was off to the left and to the right was an old office, the windows caked with so much dirt and grime, Race couldn't see inside.

A metal catwalk, high above the floor, encircled the entire area. Many parts were hidden in the shadows. The only light in the building came through the windows.

"I don't like this at all." Race stated through gritted teeth.

"Let me go find my man." Jade answered, then trotted off before Race could stop her.

He watched her disappear into the darkness. "Damnit." He grumbled.

Race pulled his handgun, stepping cautiously in the direction of the forklift. Peering around the side, he raised the weapon as he stepped behind it. Nothing lurked there.

He heard a bang at the far end of the building, a door had been slammed shut. Stepping back towards the center of the room he called out, "Jade? Where are you? Are you alright?"

"Your friend is fine."

Race spun. Jade's contact had snuck up from behind. Race had his weapon trained on the man in an instant. "Where is she, dirtbag?"

"Is that how you Americans address your friends?" He held his hands out visibly, showing he was unarmed.

"You're not my friend. Where is she?"

The man snickered. Snapping his fingers, his snicker turned into an all out laugh. Armed men emerged from hiding spots throughout the warehouse. "I suggest you lower your pistol, Agent Bannon." The man stated, his smile gone.

Race glanced down. Red dots peppered his chest. He didn't have a chance, but he kept his weapon trained on the man. "You're with The Consortium, aren't you?"

"I advised you to be careful when you say that name." The man replied.

"I don't give a shit about your advice." Race took a step forward. He heard weapons being charged. He paused. His eyes went to the door they'd entered. His heart sank when it opened and three more armed men entered. They had him surrounded.

"Lower your weapon, Agent Bannon." The man directed. "There is no escape."

"Fuck you," Race spat. "Your thugs may kill me, but not before I can put a bullet between your traitorous eyes. Where the fuck is Jade?"

"Race."

He turned to the sound of her voice. She emerged from the shadows. A gunman held a pistol to her head.

"Let her go." Race demanded.

"Or what?" The man snickered. "You'll kill me? I'm sorry to say that you are in no position to negotiate."

"Bullshit," Race countered. "If you wanted me dead you'd have already killed me."

"Perhaps." The man shrugged. "Drop your weapon. Do it now."

"Like I said," Race replied. "Fuck you."

He fired. The man's eyes went wide a half a second before Race's round slammed into his skull.

"Move!" Race yelled, diving from the hail of bullets that rained down on him a moment later.

Jade took advantage of her captors shock at seeing his boss killed. Twisting in his grasp, she dropped to her knees, breaking his hold. Lashing out, she punched the man in the groin, sending him careening backwards. Shooting up, she wrenched the handgun from his grip, turned it on him and fired.

She didn't wait to see him hit the floor before vanishing into the shadows.

Race wasn't as lucky. He'd been further out in the open and the gunmen fired at him with grim determination. He made it behind a crate just as a new burst of rounds tore the decrepit box to shreds. Crouching behind his temporary cover, he peered around the edge and saw the three men from the door splitting up, attempting to surround him. Race rushed the closest of the three.

Grabbing the man's rifle, Race jammed it skyward and kicked the man in the gut. A spray of bullets rang out from the weapon and Race heard a male scream in the background.

"Thanks for taking your buddy out for me." He spat. Tearing the rifle from the goon's grasp, Race turned it on the man and fired point blank into his chest. Blood splattered against the wall and the man crumbled to the floor.

Race brought the rifle up into the pocket of his shoulder, took aim on the next target and fired. The rounds tore into the man's legs. He cried out as he fell, but turned to fire back. Race sent another burst of rounds into the man.

Looking towards the catwalk, Race observed men scrambling to react. Some even threw ropes over the edge to repel to the ground faster than finding the stairs. Race hit one that was just climbing over the railing, sending him crashing to the floor below with a sickly crunching thud.

Race's rifle clicked, the bolt locked to the rear.

"Fuck." Running for the other dead man, he avoided another volley of fire from the men on the catwalk.

Reaching the dead man, Race snagged one of the magazines from the man's vest. Dropping his empty, he loaded the rifle, riding the bolt forward and turned to fire.

He heard a whoosh and a sharp pain flared through his left leg. Dropping to a knee, he looked down and saw the hilt of a knife, the blade buried in the side of his upper thigh. Race staggered. Faltering, the men were on him in a flash. The rifle was kicked from his hands while another man booted Race in the chest, sending him sprawling to his back, the barrel of a weapon mere inches from his head.

Groaning, Race heard Jade's protests from somewhere within the warehouse. He tried to move, but one of the men placed a boot on Race's wound, causing him to grimace and clench his teeth against the pain.

"A friend wants to see you, Bannon." A masked man growled. Race looked towards the voice and watched as the gunman pulled a sidearm from his hip, point it at Race's chest and fire.

Blackness took over within seconds.

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Tossing and turning, Jonny struggled with what his mind was showing him.

" _Mom? Mom, what's wrong?" The young boy cried. He held his mother's hand, watching the life slowly slip from her eyes._

" _Oh, Jonny, my sweet, sweet Jonny." Rachel whispered. Her breathing erratic._

 _Jonny glanced over the fallen body of his mother. Blood soaked her clothes, splatters around her neck ran down towards the floor. The rise and fall of her chest became less frequent, the timing between each breath was longer and longer._

 _Jonny cried._

" _Mom, get up. You'll be okay if you just get up." Jonny pleaded through his tears._

" _No, my sweet child." Rachel responded. Her lips were coated with blood. She tried to smile up at her child. "You have to let me go."_

" _No. I don't want to." Jonny pressed his eyes shut, hoping that by not looking the horror would disappear and his mother would okay once he opened them again._

" _You have to, Jonny." Rachel breathed. "It's okay. I'll still be with you."_

" _No. I want you to stay."_

" _I love you, Jonny." Rachel breathed one last time._

 _Her hand slipped from Jonny's grasp._

" _No!" Jonny screamed._

 _Laughter from behind. Jonny turned. Two men stood watching. One held a smoking handgun. The gun that killed his mother._

" _Why?" Jonny questioned. "Why, you bastards?"_

 _Grinning, Race Bannon shrugged. "Why not?"_

" _Now the boy." Zin ordered._

 _Race nodded. Jonny watched as the white-haired man raised the firearm and pointed it straight at him._

 _Jonny cowered._

 _Race fired._

Jonny shot up from his bed. The ringing of the gunshot still echoing in his ears as if it was real. Breathing heavily, his hands searched his chest. He wasn't shot. It was just a dream, no a nightmare.

"That's not how it happened." Jonny said aloud even though he was alone in the room. "Was it?"

Jonny wandered down the hall. It was late, but there was still a number of personnel walking about, patrolling the ancient castle's magnificent interior.

He couldn't sleep, not after the dream he'd had. He was afraid to close his eyes. He didn't want to remember anything else. It hurt too much.

He had to know what was going on and the only person that he could possibly get answers from was Greg. Jonny didn't trust any of the other board members, but Temple had been with him from the beginning; he was the only one that had shown Jonny any genuine care.

Making his way to Temple's room, Jonny paused before knocking. The doors were heavy, the walls thick, but he could hear faint sounds coming from beyond. Running a hand through his bushy locks, Jonny groaned. _'Typical Greg.'_ He mused with a smirk.

Jonny banged his fist on the door. When he didn't receive an answer, he debated leaving and coming back later. _'No. I need to know what Zin meant when he mentioned the Bannons. I need to know if Race really killed my mom.'_ Jonny told himself. He tried the handle and found the door was unlocked. He stepped inside.

At one point, Jonny might have been embarrassed about what he saw inside Temple's room, but those days were gone. He knew Greg was a man that enjoyed…well, being a man.

Temple's room was large, larger than Jonny's. The chamber had probably at one time belonged to one of the castle's more prestigious tenants and Temple, fancying himself a man in charge, had taken the room for his own. It contained a balcony and a massive fireplace, but it currently was not lit due to the castle's modernization with central heating and air. The balcony doors were shut, but the curtains were drawn back and the moonlight filtered onto the floor. There was other light coming from the lamps next to the massive king size bed. To his right, Jonny spied an antique dresser. Medieval drawings adorned the deep, rich wood, but that was not what caught Jonny's eye; it was the drugs Temple had spread atop the furniture.

Resisting the temptation, Jonny looked to the bed.

Temple was in bed, but he wasn't alone. Jonny shook his head. One of these days Temple's obliviousness when he was in the middle of one of his sexual encounters was going to get him killed. Her back to him, Jonny couldn't tell who Temple's female companion was, but he had an idea. She was on top of Greg, her hands planted firmly on his chest, her long dark hair flowing down her back. She moaned with pleasure as she rode Temple furiously. Greg's hands gripped her waist. He worked his own hips, thrusting up into his partner, grunting loudly with each push. They were so into the act that neither noticed Jonny enter; that or they didn't care.

"Hey." Jonny spoke.

The woman stopped her movements and turned her head back towards Jonny. He was right, it was Anaya Zin. "What the hell?"

"Jesus Christ." Temple spat, surprised by Jonny's intrusion.

Anaya climbed off of Temple, quickly covering herself up in a sheet.

"What the fuck are you doing in here, Jonny?" Temple growled, brushing Anaya aside so he could lean over the bed, reaching for his clothes.

"I need to talk to you."

"It couldn't fucking wait?" Temple asked, pulling on his shorts then his pants. Anaya was gathering up her clothes too, throwing them on hastily. To Jonny it was obvious, Doctor Zin didn't know that Temple was having sex with one of his daughters; the pair looked like a couple of teens that had been walked in on by their parents.

"No." Jonny replied firmly.

"Little Quest brat." Anaya mumbled, but didn't say any more when Greg shot her a look of distaste.

"Wait for me in the next room." He told her once she was dressed.

"Greg," Anaya started, giving him a pleading look after glancing back at Jonny.

"He won't say anything. Will you, Hotshot." It wasn't a question.

"You're secret's safe with me." Jonny answered honestly. His feelings for Zin hadn't changed even though he was part of The Consortium now, but his loyalty to Greg would ensure his silence on the matter.

"Good." Temple smiled. He grabbed Anaya by the waist, pulled her close and kissed her. He ran a finger along the woman's cheek and said, "This will only take a minute."

Jonny was taken aback by Greg's gentleness with Anaya. He'd only ever seen Temple with prostitutes in the past and his affection towards the daughter of Zin was akin to actual feelings. _'Does Temple love her?'_ Jonny thought to himself. It was a strange concept.

Anaya returned Temple's kiss and stepped towards the door that led to the adjoining room. She turned and gave Jonny a wink before stepping through the threshold and shutting the door.

Once they were alone, Temple looked at his mentee and scowled. "This better be good."

Jonny smirked, jerking a thumb towards the door as he stepped further into the room. "You've got balls of steel, Greg. Fucking one of Zin's daughters right under his nose. Do you have a death wish or something?"

"Watch your mouth, Hotshot. It's not like that with Anaya." Temple retorted. Jonny blinked, his assumptions confirmed; Temple did care about the woman.

"At least lock the door next time." Jonny grinned. "And try not to be so damn loud."

"People here know to stay out of each other's rooms." Temple shot back, but then he sighed and said, "But point taken. Now what's so damn important that you had to interrupt me?"

"I want to know what all that cryptic talk was between you and Zin after...after you shot that man. It had to do with Race, didn't it?"

"If you were supposed to know about that, you wouldn't have to ask these questions." Temple took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"That's not good enough, Greg." From the corner of his eye, Jonny spied Temple's open gym bag on the floor. A number of green prescription bottles sat on top of his clothes. Looking about the room casually, he saw another bottle on one of the nightstands, next to Temple's FNX .45, the handgun Jonny had now witnessed Temple use to gun down two unarmed and helpless men.

' _There is something wrong with him.'_ Jonny said to himself. It wasn't a pleasant thought, Jonny needed Temple. He was the only person in The Consortium that Jonny truly trusted…and actually cared for. ' _If something happens to him, I'll be lost.'_

"Well, it has to be. At least for now, Jonny." Greg was thinking on the fly; he knew this could potentially flare up and he had to be prepared for it. "Look, don't worry about that. It was just a progress report, that's all. Race is no danger to us."

Rubbing his chin, Jonny attempted to determine the validity of Temple's statement. He still felt like Greg was holding back on him. "Greg, you know you can trust me, right? You showed me the truth about Race and the rest of the people I thought were my family. If Race is threatening us, threatening you, I want to know so I can help."

Temple smiled. He'd succeeded in turning Jonny faster and far more effectively than he had at first believed. "Listen, kid. I know all that and I appreciate it, but let me deal with Race. We have something else in mind for you when the time comes."

"Like what?" Jonny was interested.

Temple stood. Walking over to Jonny he put an arm around the teen's shoulders and led him to the door. "You'll find out soon enough, Hotshot. For now, why don't you relax? Go find one of the pretty girls wandering about the castle. I saw quite a few of them giving you the once over when we walked in."

Jonny smiled a little. "Really?"

Temple winked at him. "Yeah, really. They like to hang out down in the mess hall or the common area. I'm sure you'll have no problem picking up any girl that catches your eye."

Opening the door, Jonny turned. "Okay, Greg."

Greg took one of the vials from the dresser. Flipping the container between his fingers, Temple smirked at Jonny's interest in the drugs. Stopping, he motioned for Jonny to hold out his hand, then placed the bottle in the teen's palm. " Relax. Find a girl and have some fun tonight. We'll talk more in the morning." Temple stated.

Temple shut the door, not letting Jonny respond. Shaking his head, Jonny heard the lock being engaged from the other side. _'Well, at least he listened to me in regards to that.'_

Temple exhaled. His back against the door, he pressed his eyes closed and frowned. _'That goddamn kid.'_ He thought to himself. Shaking the annoyance away, Greg moved towards the dresser. Picking up the straw, he leaned down and snorted a number of lines up each nostril.

Straightening, Greg pinched his nose, the drugs burned, but the rush was almost immediate. Hearing the adjoining room's door open, he turned his head to watch Anaya emerge.

"That kid is going to get you into trouble, Greg." Anaya stated, suggestively tugging at her nighty, making her way to stand in front of her lover. Her hands went to his bare chest, leaning in to kiss him passionately on the mouth.

"Let me worry about him, Anaya." He grunted, his hands around her waist, pulling her into him.

Anaya frowned, her eyes drifted towards the dresser and the rest of the narcotics Temple had yet to inhale up his nose. "You shouldn't be doing that stuff, Greg. You know what Van Brandt said."

Greg scowled. "Van Brandt can piss off."

"He's the one that's making your medication. You should listen to him." Anaya pleaded. "Somehow I don't think mixing coke and PCP with your prescriptions is a good thing."

"I'll be fine." Temple replied, dismissing the statement with a smile. "It just helps me relax, that's all. It dulls the pain." He kissed her neck, trying to make her forget her worries.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt, Greg." Anaya whispered. Temple continue to plant delicate kisses along her neck, causing her body to shudder with electrified desire.

"I won't," Temple leaned back. Brushing his lips against her, he then poked her nose with the tip of his finger and smiled, "How about this? I'll be seeing Van Brandt soon enough. I'll get him to increase my dosages, that way I won't need to use this other stuff as supplements for the pain."

Anaya nodded. "Okay. I just know there's a real chance with Van Brandt's medications. I don't want to see you ruin that chance, Greg. I don't want to watch you die." Anaya mumbled.

"Let's not talk about this anymore. Not tonight, okay? We can discuss it when I get back. But I need you to do something for me while I'm gone."

"Anything for you, my love." She whispered between pecks to his lips. Greg could tell she was still upset; he'd have to do something nice to make it up to her.

"I need you to watch Jonny for me while I go take care of that other business." Greg answered. "I don't trust anyone else with him."

Anaya mewed, her hands sliding up and down his chest. "Of course."

"Treat him right. Make him feel comfortable and get him to relax. I can't have him asking so many questions."

"I'll do right by him and by you, Greg." Anaya answered. She turned in his grasp. Taking his hands as they fell from her body, she led him back to the bed.

She sat down on the edge of bed. Greg leaned forward and kissed her again, her moans of pleasure making him forget his problems. One of his hands found it way beneath her nighty, to her breast and he stroked her gently while his other hand held the back of her neck, keeping their contact solid.

Pulling back, Anaya looked in his eyes. "Are you positive he won't say anything about us?"

Greg paused. Smiling, he gave her another kiss and replied. "I'm certain of it, Anaya. But if he does, believe me when I tell you that I'll kill that kid myself."

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Strong hands clamped down on her wrist and her mouth at the same time, jolting Jessie from her sleep. Tensing she opened her eyes and saw Phil standing over her.

"Shhh," He hissed. When he saw she recognized it was him, he let go. Leaning down, he held a finger to his lips, indicating for her to remain silent, then whispered, "Someone's in the house."

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 **Author's Note: dioxaprozaim is a completely made up name and drug.**

 **To Be Continued…**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Frowning, Jessie watched her mentor turn and look at the door, withdrewing his handgun. He held it firmly in a two handed grip and Jessie saw he was dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt and boots.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Get dressed and grab your weapon. We make for the car."

"We've been compromised?" Jessie asked as she threw the covers off, rushing over to her dresser to silently open the drawers and grab some clothes. "Elise?"

Corbin didn't answer, instead he waited till she was dressed and securing her holster to her belt. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a USB thumb drive. "Take this, just in case."

"What is it?" Jessie asked. She shoved the drive into her pocket and tied her hair back. A moment later she quickly snapped her mouth shut; she could hear heavy footsteps climbing the stairs in the hall.

A creak. A pause. The steps started up again. Leaning back, Phil whispered in her ear. "If we get separated, follow the instructions on that. Follow them exactly."

"Phil..."

He gave her a look that quickly silenced the young redhead. He flashed a number of hand signals to her, instructing her to move behind him, enabling him to take up a position behind the door. Holding her breath, Jessie did as instructed. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest she was amazed it wasn't giving their position away.

She heard the door scrape against the old wooden floor; whoever was after them was coming into her room. As the unseen gunman entered, Jessie watched Phil sneer and throw his shoulder into the open door.

A grunt, followed by a short burst of suppressed gunfire reverberated off the old bedroom's walls. Phil aimed around the door at the off-balanced intruder and fired. Jessie heard a muffled cry then a thud as the gunman hit the floor.

"Move." Phil ordered and stepped over the downed gunman. It was dark, but Jessie's eyes adjusted to the blackness, she didn't see any movement from the fallen man.

Staying on Corbin's heels, Jessie was glued to his side as he poked his head out the door and back. Looking at her, he signaled and received a nod of understanding from the redhead.

Hugging the wall, they moved from the room into the darkened hallway, heading for the stairs. Descending the steps quickly, but quietly they made it to the ground floor unchallenged. Stepping towards the front room, Jessie heard a creak of an old floorboard.

"Get down." She growled at the same moment the gunshots erupted.

Diving to the floor, the two crawled towards the entrance. Hearing movement, Jessie rolled to her back as a masked intruder came up on them from behind; he'd been lurking in the kitchen. Aiming center mass, Jessie squeezed the trigger; nothing happened. "Shit" She grumbled trying again, still nothing, only a click as the hammer fell, but the gun didn't fire.

Jessie swore she saw the thug smile beneath his ski mask. Scrambling backwards, Jessie pulled herself up and threw the useless weapon at her pursuer. The man paused as the gun connected with his forehead, a loud crack rang through the room when the metal smacked into the man's skull.

"Fuck." He staggered, his hands shooting up to his head.

Jessie felt Phil at her side. He took aim and fired at the distracted man and planted two rounds in his chest.

He jerked his head, "Come on."

Reaching the front, Phil grabbed the knob and opened the door. "Head for the car. You know where the keys are located?"

She nodded as Phil stood and motioned for her to head outside. "Go. Hurry."

"We go together." Jessie said, stepping across the threshold.

"I'm right behind you." Phil said.

"Stop right there." A rough voice ordered.

Spinning, Phil raised his pistol at the new threat, both men firing simultaneously. Three rounds slammed into Phil's chest, pushing him backwards into the door to fall face first to the floor; he made no move to stand; he was motionless.

Jessie froze as she heard her protector grunt from the impact. She watched him collapse. "Phil!" She yelled, but was cut off as the assailant turned his attention to her. Phil's shots appeared to have hit the man in the leg and he was currently pulling himself back to his feet, searching for the weapon he'd dropped when he was hit.

She only had seconds to decide. Her eyes fell on her backpack next to the coat hanger. She couldn't locate Phil's handgun. Snatching the bag up, she hefted it over her shoulders as she heard the gunman grunting.

"Shit!" She barked, her eyes filling with tears. The assassin stumbled and with one last look at the man that risked his life for her, she shook her head, silently asked forgiveness and bolted from the house.

Running through the early morning mist, Jessie made her way towards the barn where Phil had parked the Taurus to the side after they'd arrived. Reaching the vehicle, she turned back towards the house.

"I shouldn't leave him." She breathed, but she was unarmed and had no idea how many gunmen were inside or creeping around the property. Shaking her head, she opened the driver's side door and climbed inside. A noise from the front of the house drew her attention.

To her horror, Jessie watched two men dressed in black fatigues and ski masks drag Phil outside. His body was slack and the men held his arms, his legs dragging across the porch behind him. Jessie saw his shirt was soaked with blood.

Biting her lip, she fought back tears, but she couldn't look away. "What are they doing? Why aren't they coming after me?"

When the gunmen were at the end of the steps they tossed Phil down the stairs. The way their bodies moved, Jessie concluded they were laughing. It enraged her to see these men acting so callously. A third masked man emerged from the house. Slowly, deliberately he took his time descending the steps.

Phil moved. "He's alive." Jessie exclaimed, but she was frozen in place. Her body refusing to move from the car. She watched Corbin attempting to crawl through the wet, muddy grass.

The third man watched the Director casually. It was obvious they were toying with the wounded man. Eventually, he crouched down in the mud next to Jessie's godfather. His hand snatched Phil by the back of his shirt, flipping him over. He slid his arms under Phil's back and pushed him into a seating position.

Time felt like it had ended at the farmhouse that morning. Jessie's breathing was erratic, her nerves frayed, her mind not processing what she was witnessing. But she watched the men in front of the house. The man that held Phil up appeared to whisper something in Corbin's ear, but Corbin didn't react. His head was low, his chin against his bloody chest. The assassin pushed his knee into Phil's spine, then grabbed a fistful of Corbin's dark hair, exposing his throat. With what Jessie assumed was an evil smirk beneath the mask, she watched him pulled a knife and slide it across Corbin's throat.

Blood glistened on the blade and the man let go of Phil, pushing him down face first into the mud.

Jessie was shocked. She couldn't believe what she had just seen. Shaking her head, she saw the three men look at Phil's body then turn in her direction. Jessie felt an icy chill run down her spine as the men stared at her.

Grabbing the keys, she started the car. As soon as the engine roared to life she threw the shifter into DRIVE and slammed the gas pedal. Speeding past the macabre scene, she didn't give the men, or Corbin, a second glance. She simply fled.

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"This place is a shithole." Agent Gould grumbled.

Seated in the car, Roberts gave his new partner a look. They were staking out the apartment complex where Zin's daughter was holed up. The early morning fog created an eerie visage of the post-Soviet block of tenements. No one occupied the streets so early in the morning. Besides another vehicle with two other Agents located behind the building, they were alone.

"Well, Russia really has struggled in its recovery ever since the Iron Curtain fell." Roberts answered.

"Yeah, I suppose." Gould replied, sipping his coffee.

Roberts sighed. He was tired, having been on duty all night and they still had another hour before the next team would come and relieve them. "Hopefully Dugger will give us some orders. Sitting around waiting seems like such a waste."

Gould gave Roberts a smile. "Dug knows what he's doing. He's in line for a promotion, ya know. But let's not talk about him, tell me about your new girl."

Roberts blushed, "How do you know about that? You've been in the field."

Gould chuckled a bit. "Everyone knows. Come on, man, we're intelligence agents. We wouldn't be very good at our jobs if we didn't know about the latest scuttlebutt in our own ranks."

"I guess so." Terry answered.

"So, tell me about her. You two…"

"What?" Roberts shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You know. Come on, Terry, don't be so shy." Gould smiled.

"It's not that. I just don't feel comfortable talking about her in that way." Roberts answered.

"Terry Roberts," Gould laughed, giving his partner a little slap on the shoulder. "We always knew there was more to you than a shy little linguist from Montana. I'm just busting your balls, man, if you don't want to talk about it, that's cool. For the record though, I think it's a good match."

"Thanks." Roberts smiled. Turning to look at Gould, Roberts paused. Movement at the end of the block caught his eye. "Did you see something?"

"What?" Gould asked. "I didn't see anything."

Peering out into the mists, Terry pointed. "There. At the end of the street. Do you see that?"

Gould followed the direction Roberts was pointing. Cloaked in the mists was a shadowy figure wearing a long trench coat and a wide brimmed hat. "Probably some homeless person. There's enough of them here in Moscow."

"I don't think so." Roberts replied. He picked up the radio mike. "Team two, do you guys see anything at your location?"

"Negative." The Agent in the other vehicle replied.

Terry frowned. Looking back, he saw the figure was gone. "Shit. Did you see where he went?"

Gould shook his head. "I'll go check it out. I'm sure it's just a bum. Wait here."

Gould exited the vehicle. Terry stepped out as well and hung next to the car. The air was chilly and he saw Gould disappear into the fog. His hair was standing on the back of his neck and he felt goose bumps rising from his arms.

' _Something's not right.'_ He thought. His hand went to his pistol.

"Gould?" Roberts called out. Scanning his surroundings.

A muffled shout emanated from the fog. Terry peered towards the direction of the sound. "Gould, are you alright?"

He took a step forward. He heard another noise and ducked when an object flew out from the murky fog in his direction. With a crash, the object hit the ground at Terry's feet; it was Gould. His neck had been snapped, his eyes pried wide open in his last moments.

"Fuck." Terry reached back into the car. Grabbing the radio mike again he called to the other Agents. "Something just killed Gould."

Static.

Footsteps approached. Roberts dropped the mike and turned. The figure was approaching. He stepped over the body of Gould as if it was nothing more than a pile of trash in the middle of the road.

Roberts stepped back. He didn't know what to do. The man continued forward, slowly, methodically. His trench coat swirling behind him in the wind. Roberts' veins turned to ice. The gruesome death mask of Gould's killer was all that Terry could see. He tried to reach for his sidearm, but Rage was on him in a flash, moving with inhuman speed to grab Terry's arm and wrench him off his feet.

Roberts cried out as his shoulder popped. "Rage." He grimaced. "You're dead."

Rage smiled at the frightened Agent. He cocked his head to the side, watching Roberts' face contort with pain as he lifted him higher, the Agent's feet dangling off the ground. He twisted Roberts' arm again, causing Terry to shout out from the pain.

"I am not the one that is dead." Rage leered. His other hand grabbed Terry's jaw. His fingers squeezed around the man's face. "It is your time to die, so it is written in the book of Rage."

Terry's eyes went wide. He attempted to struggle, to break Rage's hold, but the insane man was too strong. Rage laughed. Pivoting, he slammed Roberts' face into the side of the vehicle. The window shattered from the impact. Letting go of his opponent, Rage watched as Roberts' body dropped to the street. The Agent didn't move.

"You all shall die." Rage spat. Turning on his heel he didn't give Roberts a second look before heading towards the apartment complex.

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Race blinked as he woke, his eyes attempting to adjust to the surrounding darkness. He was lying face down on a cold, stone floor. Groaning in pain, he slowly pulled himself up to his knees and placed a weary hand on his head. He had no idea how long he'd been out. Smacking his lips, he spit, attempting to remove the foul taste from his tongue. His leg burned from where he'd taken the knife in the thigh, but the fact that he hadn't bled out from the wound told him that his captors had provided some type of first aid. _'How kind of them.'_ Race thought.

Turning he sat on the floor and let the room come into focus; he was in some type of holding cell. Sneering, he gave himself a once over and found that he'd been stripped of his own belongings, to include all of his clothes, and had been redressed in nothing but a pair of slacks. The realization of his predicament hit him like a ton of bricks; whoever had been behind the ambush knew what they were doing; by taking everything to include his clothing, his captors ensured he had no hidden gadgets or devices that he could use.

' _Well at least they gave me some pants.'_ Race mused to himself with a smirk. He also wondered what happened to Jade and if she was also captured or had managed to escape. _'I can only hope it's the latter.'_

Footsteps beyond the door interrupted his thoughts. Lying back down on the floor, Race waited patiently for whoever was approaching his cell, giving the impression he was still out, and hoping someone might say or do something to give him a clue as to his whereabouts.

He heard the door open, then a familiar voice laughed and a boot kicked him in the side. "Get up, Bannon. We know you're awake. You're under observation."

Race cursed inwardly; he should have known. Pushing himself back up, he turned and stared at the man. Scowling in disbelief, Race grunted, "Temple?"

"You know it, Racer." Temple laughed. "Surprised to see me?"

Temple snapped his fingers and two men entered the room. They pulled Race to his feet and secured his arms behind his back with metal handcuffs; Temple wasn't foolish enough to bind Race any other way.

"What's going on?" Race's question was genuine. "You…you died, man."

"Obviously not, hero." Greg Temple chuckled as the men held Race by the arms, lifted him to his feet and guided him out of the cell.

The sudden appearance of his old partner, a man that Race had long thought to be dead, baffled Bannon into silence. Not only was Temple alive, but it appeared he worked for The Consortium.

"Not going to say anything, Bannon?" Greg grumbled, staring him in the face.

"I don't waste my breath on traitors." Race remarked darkly.

"Hmph." Greg huffed. The right side of his lips curled up into an evil grin. Turning as if to go, Greg looked away, but turned back quickly and landed a solid gut punch to Race's abdomen. Race grunted and keeled over, but the guards held firm and he remained standing.

Looking up, Race growled, "That's how it is now, Temple? Ensure I'm restrained then attack? You ain't got the balls to fight me man to man."

"Shut your trap, Racer." Temple spat, hitting Race in the midsection again. Race leaned forward from the blow and Temple lashed out, landing a solid punch to the side of Race's head. This time the guards let Race collapse.

Kneeling down in front of his former friend, Temple snatched Race's jaw in his grip and growled. "You've got a lot to learn, Bannon. I'm going to break you. Just like I broke that Quest brat."

Race hid his relief at the mention of Jonny. Instead he stared down Temple in defiance. "You can try, Greg. But you better hope that you do break me. If you don't, my face will be the last thing you ever see. I'm going to fucking kill you and this time I'll ensure you stay dead."

Temple laughed then let go of Race's jaw. Standing he held Race's stare for a moment then ordered the guards, "Blindfold him."

Race struggled against the guards, making their job as difficult as possible, but eventually a dark rag was placed over his eyes, cutting him off from observing the layout of the facility.

He was pulled to his feet. Race grumbled and Temple laughed. "I'm about to have some fun with you, Racer."

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"Another glass of wine?" Kreed asked. He poured the red liquid into her glass before she could answer.

"I really shouldn't." Estella blushed. "I've already had two glasses."

"Do not worry about that," Kreed smiled. "I will ensure you get home safely."

Estella had met the charismatic Englishmen for lunch at the same restaurant she had met Race at before he had departed on his mission. It felt like a lifetime since that meeting with her ex-husband and daughter.

"You are too kind, Lucius." Estella beamed.

His smile made her melt. He was so handsome, even with the hideous burn marks on the side of his neck. He must have seen her eyes wandering to his disfigurement because he frowned while setting the wine bottle down. "I was burned as a child."

"I'm sorry," Estella averted her eyes. "How rude of me."

"Oh do not apologize, my dear," Kreed responded warmly. "It happened so long ago I do not even think about it, but I realize it may be off-putting to others."

"It is not off-putting, Lucius." Estella answered, wine glass already in her hand once again. "I shouldn't have stared."

"Forget about it." Kreed waved it off.

Estella decided it was best to change the subject. "So when are you returning to England?"

"I must depart rather suddenly I am sad to say." Kreed frowned a little. "Some new developments have arisen that I must attend to in person. Believe me, I would rather stay here where the company and the conversation is much more entertaining."

"That is a shame to hear, Lucius."

"My offer still stands, Estella." Kreed stated.

The waiter came and placed the check on the table which Kreed promptly took care of.

"I would like you to come with me, Estella. Or at least come meet me if you cannot travel at the moment."

Estella flustered. She was torn. Part of her wanted to escape with Kreed, start anew, but another part of her felt that if she left, she'd be abandoning Benton and Hadji, not to mention Jessie and Jonny.

Kreed waited. Not knowing how to answer, Estella decided just to finish her wine. When she was done, Kreed stood and offered his hand. Taking it, Estella got to her feet. Wooziness washed over the redhead.

"My goodness," Estella stammered, placing a hand to her head. "I must have drank more than I thought."

"Come, Estella," Kreed soothed. He put an arm around her waist and guided her to the exit. Out on the street, a Lincoln Town car with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. Kreed led her to the door and opened it. "I will take care of you."

Estella got in the car, her eyelids were heavy and her head spun. She'd hoped the cool leather seats would help with her sudden nausea, but it didn't. A moment later, Kreed got in a sat down next to her. The car pulled out onto the road.

"This is so embarrassing." Estella mumbled, her words sounding slurred.

Kreed smiled. "Do not be embarrassed, my sweet."

"I shouldn't have drank so much. Wine has never done this to me before."

Kreed chuckled. "It wasn't the wine, Estella."

Estella blinked. Her heart beat faster. Her eyes were unfocused, but she saw Kreed grinning at her. It was a smile she had yet to see…it was evil. "What…what have you done to me?"

Kreed pecked her on the cheek. She pulled away, but he reached out and grabbed the side of her head, pulling her close to him. "You have no reason to pull away from me, Estella."

"Stop this, Lucius." Fear crept into her voice. "Please…"

"Do not beg," Kreed frowned. "It is unbecoming of a lovely woman such as yourself."

"Why? Where are you taking me?"

"You will see soon enough, my dear."

Estella's eyes rolled into the back of her head. The last thing she heard before passing out was Kreed's insane laughter.

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"Come in." Benton stated when he saw Agents Dugger and Altine standing at the door.

"We came as soon as we could, Doctor." Dugger gave the scientist a nod once he and Karla were inside.

"I appreciate that, Agent Dugger."

"What more have you learned?" Karla asked, following Benton to the kitchen. She tried to hide her amazement at the size and beauty of Benton's home. Pete had given her a 'warning' as they drove from the airstrip, but when she'd finally laid eyes on the mansion and the grounds, she couldn't hide her amazement. And the inside was as beautiful as the outside.

Entering the kitchen, the two Agents saw Hadji was already there, sipping a glass of water. Dugger looked around, "Where's Estella?"

"She's not here." Benton stated. "She's in town. Why?"

"I was asked to check up on her too." Dugger replied.

"She may be back before we are finished. She has been doing better though." Hadji told the big Agent.

"That's good to know." Dugger nodded his head.

"Anyways," Benton started. "The more I thought about what we've discovered about this concoction the more concerned I've become. If The Consortium is mixing these drugs and giving them to these kids, I'm afraid that once we recover Jonny he'll be in a deplorable state. Especially after what you reported about the one man that had the seizure."

"Is there anything that can combat the effects of the drug?" Altine asked, noting the worry in Benton's voice.

"I don't know. The best hope is that Jonny has not been given the mixture that contains dioxaprozaim."

"Why is that, Doctor?" Dugger inquired.

"Of the samples that Director Corbin left, we discovered that only one contained dioxaprozaim," Hadji offered. "Based on that information, we have concluded that the mixtures with dioxaprozaim are given to the captives at later stages in their captivity. Perhaps once the user begins to display signs that would indicate the effects of the initial drug are no longer as powerful as they once were, they are given the second dosage."

"So Sterns, who had been with The Consortium longer, was on the stronger stuff, but the other kid, Hayes, was not. Hence, why he did not have a seizure?" Dugger could see where they were going.

"Right," Benton nodded. "And if Jonny has not yet been given the mixture with dioxaprozaim there is still hope for him."

"What is it about dioxaprozaim that makes it so much worse?" Altine asked, keying in on Benton's apprehensions.

"Dioxaprozaim, like I said before, was pulled by the FDA due to the severe side effects that some of the patients displayed. And like I said, the damage can be irreversible based on how much of the drug a patient consumed and for how long. If Jonny has been given this drug, it could have damaged my son to the point where it could kill him."

"Jesus," Dugger grumbled, rubbing his chin. "Doctor, I'm sorry."

"There's no point in apologizing," Benton stated. "What we need to focus on is getting Jonny back and ensuring he no longer takes these drugs."

"We've begun narrowing our search to patients with criminal records that were given this drug. It's been difficult due to lack of medical records from some countries were nerve gas exposure has been more prominent, but we are hopeful." Dugger explained.

"Have you look into the old I-1 case from Greenland?" Benton asked the question directly to Dugger.

The Cajun blinked. "That case was closed years ago. Everyone is dead."

"One thing I've learned, Agent Dugger, is that many of my adversaries seem to have a difficult time dying. It could be worth looking into if for no other reason than to eliminate everyone that was exposed to the gas during that operation."

Dugger nodded. Benton could tell the big man was skeptical, but he'd do what Benton asked out of respect for the scientist and his family. "We'll get on it, Doctor. I need to do my checks with your security detail and get the week's reports from IRIS before we head back. Come on, Karla."

"Thank you, Agent Dugger." Benton stated. "You have access to IRIS already, yes?"

"I do." Dugger confirmed. "I just don't know where the mainframe is located."

"I will show you, Agent." Hadji set his glass down and stood.

Karla paused, "Doctor Quest, may I ask one more question?"

"Of course, Agent Altine." Benton smiled a little.

"How do you know so much about dioxaprozaim?"

"Karla," Dugger mumbled, surprised by her bluntness.

Benton shook his head at the Cajun. "It's okay. To answer your question, Agent Altine, a subsidiary of Quest Enterprises had a sub-contract with the larger pharmaceutical company that created it. I was on the board that recommended approval of the drug to the FDA when it was first developed."

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Seated at one of the tables in the mess hall, Jonny picked at his breakfast. He sat alone; he wasn't up to conversing with anyone at the moment, not even Andrew.

Pushing his food lazily around his plate, Jonny didn't react when two girls approached his table.

"Hey there, good looking." The first girl grinned. "We had fun last night."

"Uh huh." Jonny mumbled. His head hurt and he didn't want to talk to anyone right now, let alone the girls that seemed to only want him for the drugs Temple had given him the night prior. Even their sexual advances towards him had meant nothing to the blonde.

"Can you get us some more?" The second girl asked.

"Why don't you get it yourself?" Jonny shot back.

They seemed unperturbed by his harshness. Their behavior confirmed Jonny's feelings; all they wanted was drugs and sex. They didn't care about Jonny at all.

"Get lost."

It wasn't Jonny that spoke those words. He heard the girls gasp in surprise, then scurry away. Jonny looked up when Anaya Zin sat down at his table.

He heard murmurs from the nearby tables and looking around he noticed other people looking at him questionably. They turned away when his eyes met theirs.

"What do you want?" He asked the woman. "Where's Greg? I went to find him this morning and he was gone."

"Greg had to leave on a mission." Anaya answered.

Jonny studied the woman with suspicion. Her look told him she was concerned with what Jonny had seen the night before, but there was something else too. A subtly to her words and movements when she spoke of Temple.

"Why would he leave without me?" Jonny asked.

"It's something he has to do alone. He asked me to watch over you. He'll be back, Jonny."

"Why do you care about me?" Jonny questioned. "I already told you I wouldn't say anything about you and Greg."

"Shhh," Anaya hissed.

Jonny smirked; it was clear as day the woman was scared of her father. "I won't say anything because I care about Greg, not because I care about you, Anaya."

Anaya sighed. "Look, Jonny. You care about Greg and so do I."

"Then tell me what's wrong with him. He won't say anything to me, but I saw the prescription bottles in his room. He's becoming erratic too. You know he shot that Italian banker, right?"

Anaya nodded. She looked sad. "I do. Greg is not a bad person, Jonny."

"I never said he was." Jonny shot back.

Anaya shook her head. She didn't want to betray her lover's trust, but in order to protect Greg, she had to protect Jonny too. "Let's go somewhere we can talk in private."

Anaya stood. Jonny frowned, but followed suit. He ignored the stares from the other occupants of the mess hall, keeping his eyes on the back of the daughter of Zin.

She led him outside. Coming up next to her, he kept in step with her as they walked. Eventually, when Anaya felt they were away from any prying eyes and listening ears, she spoke. "Jonny, I want you to know that Greg means the world to me and I think he does to you too. He doesn't want me to say anything, but I believe you have a right to know."

"Okay," Jonny mumbled.

"You know that he was exposed to nerve gas many years ago, right?" Anaya asked.

"Yeah. I assume that's what is causing his sickness." Jonny answered.

"Well, yes and no." Anaya responded. Exhaling heavily, she stopped. Turning to the blonde, her sad eyes spoke of something much deeper. "After Greg was exposed he started taking medication. He got better, but about three years ago he started getting really sick. His doctor changed the medication, but by that point it was already too late. The damage was done."

"If Greg got sick, then why didn't Kreed? Was he not on the same drugs?" Jonny asked.

"He was. No one knows for sure why he didn't get sick." Anaya shrugged. "Greg's body just reacted differently to the drugs, at least that's what the doctors told him."

"So tell me the truth, Anaya? What's going to happen to him? Is he dying?"

Anaya saw the sadness in Jonny's eyes; heard the hurt in the young man's words. "I hope not, Jonny."

"What else?" Jonny asked. He could tell she was holding back on him. "What are you not saying?"

"Jonny, the drugs that caused Temple's sickness…they were approved for use by the FDA."

"So?"

"So, your father, Doctor Quest, was on the panel that approved the use of the drugs. Temple blames your father for his sickness. And he plans to have his revenge."

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"Why, Greg?" Race asked the moment the blindfold was ripped from his face.

"Why do you think, Racer?" Temple replied.

"How much is The Consortium paying you to do this?"

"You think it's about money?" Greg answered. "I don't give a damn about money, not anymore."

"Then what is it?"

"Power, my friend. I know you know what it's like. To have the power over the lives of others. To do what you want to those that have wronged you."

"Where's Jade? What have you done with her?"

"Your girlfriend is being looked after, don't you worry about that." Temple chuckled.

"If you hurt her…"

"What?" Temple remarked. "You're in no position to make demands, Racer."

"Is that what this is about? You're angry at me, so you take it out on the people I care about? On Jonny and Jade?"

Temple sneered. He cracked Race in the side of the head. "It's not all about you, you arrogant prick."

Race's head spun. "You're calling me arrogant? That's rich, Greg."

"Shut up." Temple growled and hit Race again. "You did this to me, Bannon. You and that bastard scientist Doctor Quest."

"Did what?" Race looked his old friend in the eyes, eyes that were filled with hate and madness. "What happened to you?"

"Don't act like you care." Temple spat.

"Tell me, Greg. Tell me so I can help you."

Temple strode forward and snatched Race's jaw in his hand. His grip tightened, he stared Race in the eyes, their faces only inches apart. "You can't help me, Racer. You never could."

"Stop this, Greg. Stop it before it's too late." Race growled through his clenched jaw.

With his other hand, Temple reached into his pants pocket. Race's eyes strained to see what his adversary was doing. He heard a metal flick. He tried to hide his fright when Temple produced the straight razor and held it before his eyes.

"It's already too late for me, Racer." Greg grinned, but there was no joy in his look. "But I still have time to have some fun with you."

"You're mad." Race spat, drool running from his lips.

"Say what you want, Racer. It won't change anything." Temple remarked, then ran the edge of the blade across Race's chest.

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The rain came suddenly, pouring from the sky in thick sheets. Jessie turned up the wiper speed as she drove, her mind detached. Staring ahead, she had no idea where she was headed at the moment, just driving through the bleak and dismal countryside of ashen skies and somber cornfields.

After almost an hour of driving, the road led her into a small town. She maneuvered the vehicle into a McDonald's parking lot and finding a space near the rear of the fast food establishment, she put the vehicle in park and shut off the engine.

Remaining still, she stared out the rain drenched windshield into nothingness.

Sighing, she attempted to recall how things could have gone wrong. Who were the men that raided the farmhouse, but more importantly, who sent them and what did they want? It had to be The Consortium. If they were simply there to kill her and Phil they could have just burned the house down or lied in wait in the woods and killed them from afar when they emerged in the morning. Remembering the scenario caused her to choke and she bit her bottom lip to fight away the tears. She was strong, yet she was now alone. For some reason, she had never thought the bad guys could win. For years her family had always been strong, had always come out on top, so to watch Phil die had shaken her to the core. It was completely unexpected and unfair. The good guys were supposed to be victorious, not killed in the wee hours of the morning by faceless mercenaries.

"It's not supposed to work that way." Jessie growled, slamming her fist over and over against the steering wheel, tears streaming down her face. "First Jonny, then my dad, now Phil. Damnit! No!"

Inhaling with a sharp hiss, Jessie shook her head, the stinging pain in her hand bringing her back to the present. She couldn't sit in the fast food parking lot forever and there'd be time to mourn for Phil later. For now, she had to keep moving. She fingered the thumb drive in her pocket, knowing she had to access it. She grabbed the backpack from the seat next to her, wiped the tears from her face and moved to head inside.

Within seconds of stepping out of the vehicle, she was drenched. Quickening her step she made her way into the restaurant. A few early morning patrons lingered, but otherwise the McDonald's was fairly deserted.

Stepping up to the counter, Jessie ordered a large coffee and an Egg McMuffin. Paying with cash, she must have looked distraught as the freckle-faced teen asked, "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need help?"

Jessie blinked, "No, I'm fine. Thanks. Just a bit tired. Do you have Wi-Fi here?"

"Yeah." He replied with a frown as he handed her a coffee cup. A moment later her food was ready. She gave him a kind smile, alleviating his concerns, then found a booth in the corner that gave her a small level of privacy.

Jessie powered up the laptop and found the appropriate Wi-Fi signal as she took a bite of her sandwich; she hardly tasted it. She set it down. She couldn't stomach eating, not after what she'd witnessed. Plugging the thumb drive in she waited for it to open then accessed the only available folder.

The first document inside was labeled "READ FIRST"

Opening the Word file, she found instructions. She remembered Corbin's words that she had to follow the instructions exactly. The least she could do for him was actually listen and do what he said; after all he died protecting her.

Shaking the morbid thoughts away, she read the file completely, then read it again. Her next steps were clear. She moved to the next file and found the appropriate numbers and data. Memorizing the information, she pulled the drive and powered down the laptop. Shoving the items back into her bag, she refilled her coffee then headed for the door. The rain had led up slightly which gave Jessie some relief.

Cincinnati was a long drive away.

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 **Author's Notes: For my dedicated fans. I only hope this chapter hasn't caused you more grief. Much love and respect, my friends.  
**

 **To Be Continued…**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 **Author's Notes: Thanks to Goddess Evie for her amazing help with a certain scene in this chapter. It turned out one hundred times better thanks to her!**

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Jonny turned towards the bang of the operation center's doors being flung inward. He was seated next to Andrew, studying the communications equipment the other boy worked on, but his attention shifted when he saw Rage and Melena Zin stride confidently into the room.

Standing, Jonny gave his friend a pat on the shoulder then went to stand at the table where Melena was setting down the metal briefcase.

Doctor Zin emerged from the shadows. Jonny hadn't even know the infamous Zin was in the room. Anaya and Julia entered from a side door a moment later. The two Zin daughters exchanged nods, acknowledging each other in the subtle way that only twins truly understood.

"I commend your quick work, Ezekiel." Zin rubbed his hands together as he walked to stand next to his rescued daughter; his eyes drifting towards the metal briefcase while he spoke.

"Of course." Rage answered.

"The Agents at the scene?" Julia questioned, her confidence in Rage not as easily given as it appeared to be with Zin.

Rage waved a dismissive hand. "Child's play. They were no match for me."

"Excellent." Zin grinned evilly.

Jonny watched the exchange with an amused smirk. He still couldn't get over the fact that his former enemies all seemed to work together rather easily. It made him wonder how long they'd all been together as the single entity known as The Consortium.

' _The enemy of my enemy…'_ Jonny mused to himself.

He caught Anaya's eyes briefly. Relief for her sister's safety was clear as day in her eyes, but Jonny could tell that she was still worried about Temple. And so was Jonny. Greg had been gone a number of days and there was no word from him as to when he'd return or even what he was doing. It was making Jonny restless. At first, he didn't like having to rely on Anaya for his daily mixtures, however the Zin woman seemed to honestly care about Jonny's well-being and had made the effort to bring Jonny into the fold and make him comfortable in his new surroundings. He only wished she'd tell him more about Greg; not only his current whereabouts, but also his condition.

He shot a little smile and eyebrow raise at Anaya. The woman gave him a subtle nod before turning her attention to her father.

Zin ran his hands over the smooth metal of the stolen briefcase before pushing the buttons to pop the locks. All eyes around the table were focused on the container.

Lifting the lid, Zin's smiled widened. Inside were two hard plastic cases, one black and the other green. A spiral notebook was tucked into the flap of the briefcase's lid. Reaching inside, Zin withdrew the black case, unzipped it and pulled out a small vial.

Jonny had no idea what the vial contained, but he could tell it was just over halfway filled with a thick brownish-red substance.

"Perfect." Zin mused then set the vial back into the case. Opening the green case in the same manner, Jonny watched as Zin produced another vial, but this one was filled with a clear substance.

"What is it?" Jonny asked. To him it seemed he was the only one that had no idea what they were all looking at.

"This, young Jonathan," Zin stated as he looked at the blonde, "this is what will save all of us."

Brow scrunched in confusion, Jonny waited for Zin to say more. The Mongolian scientist chuckled at Jonny's ignorance and set the vial back in its container. He picked the first one up again and walked over to Jonny. He held the vial before the teen's eyes.

"The other vial will save us from this."

"Your megalomania always was rather annoying. Get to the point." Jonny stated.

Zin seemed taken aback by Jonny's brashness, but the youth heard a few muffled chuckles from Julia and Rage. Regaining his composure, Zin shook his head at the boy. "Always one to run his mouth, just like your father. However, I will excuse your insubordinate behavior since it was you that facilitated our ability to retrieve these vials and more importantly," Zin waved a hand back at the briefcase. "The formulas."

"Still not telling me anything, Zin." Jonny huffed.

"You will be told what you need to be told when you need to be told." Zin replied.

Jonny shut his mouth, it appeared Zin would only tolerate so much back talk in front of the others.

"I must admit, father, Jonny did an excellent job on eliminating the target." Melena stated, speaking for the first time since she'd arrived.

"So I've been told." Zin remarked, keeping his eyes on Jonny. "Mister Temple surpassed my expectations, but the real tests of Jonny's character and devotion are still to come."

"Where's Temple?" Jonny asked upon hearing his mentor's name.

"He will return soon, I'm sure. Do not worry about Mister Temple, young man. He will come and retrieve you prior to the next mission." Zin answered half-heartedly.

"Which is?" Jonny questioned; he couldn't stand cryptic babble.

Zin turned his back to Jonny. Walking back to the briefcase he returned the vial to its pouch, put them both back in the briefcase and closed it, ensuring the locks were secured. Stepping back from the table, he allowed Rage to come forward and take the metal case.

"Come with me, boy." Rage said, turning his hideous visage towards Jonny. Jonny didn't think he would ever get used to looking at the disfigured man's face, even with the mask.

"Where are we going?"

"Damn you ask a lot of questions." Julia groaned. She came over and stood next to Rage.

"My parents always said I was inquisitive. Mainly at the most inopportune times." Jonny answered. He swore he heard Anaya choke.

"Go with Ezekiel and Julia, Jonny. They will fill you in on all the details of how you will spend your time here until Temple returns." Zin ordered. Before Jonny could say any more, Zin and his daughters moved towards the doors then departed the operation centers.

Once they were gone, Jonny turned to look at the two remaining board members. "What now?"

"Now we get to work." Rage stepped in the opposite direction, heading for one of the doors opposite from the main entrance, Julia had an annoyed scowl on her face, but she followed the man without question.

Shrugging his shoulders as he sighed, Jonny fell in step behind the pair.

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Jessie ditched the keys to the Taurus. Making her way through the parking garage, her mind was still reeling from what she'd witnessed and the fact that she was now alone. Her body was numb, yet she continued on for Jonny's sake and those that had died to help save him. Now it was up to her to find Jonny and her father and bring them home.

She'd followed the instructions Phil had left on the thumb drive. She'd found a mall along the route he'd given her and stopped to purchase clothing and a piece of luggage. After packing the suitcase, she'd continued on to the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky Airport.

All of the items she would need to obtain her flight information were secured in her backpack and the instructions on the thumb drive had been clear. Inside the backpack, in addition to the laptop, wallet with ID, credit cards, and money, passport and old cell phone, Jessie had also found another iPod. When she'd turned it on she was surprised to find every one of her previous playlists and songs were already loaded onto the device. The thought that Corbin had replaced the one he'd deliberately broken and had taken the time to somehow find her playlists had sent Jessie into another bout of tears during her drive.

Entering the terminal, she made her way to the check-in counter. She was to travel to Scotland and meet up with Corbin's contact.

Using one of the self-check-in terminals, Jessie received her boarding pass, dropped her checked luggage, and made her way to the security section of the airport. Pushing through the throngs of travelers, she felt her chest tighten, her breathing becoming labored and restricted.

Bumping into a man wearing a leather jacket and a Cincinnati Bengals baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, Jessie rushed to the nearest bathroom.

"Hey!" The man grumbled, but Jessie ignored him completely.

Locking herself in one of the handicap stalls, Jessie sank to the floor. She didn't care if it was dirty. She already felt dirty having left her godfather to die. She should have helped him, should have went after the men that toyed with him while he bled in the mud. Running her hands over her face, she let the tears flow once again. She heard other people entering and leaving the bathroom, but she didn't care and no one bothered to check on her. Hiccupping, her breathing became erratic again and she leaned towards the toilet. She had nothing in her stomach, but the heaves came anyways.

Her body ached, but eventually she picked herself up off the floor. She couldn't stay in the bathroom of the Cincinnati airport forever.

Taking a moment to splash some water on her face and run her hands through her hair, Jessie checked her appearance in the mirror. The ragged face that stared back at her made her sneer. Shaking her head, she looked away, grabbed her backpack and made her way back towards security.

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Standing off to the side, the man in the Bengals hat focused on the bathroom. When Jessie finally emerged he watched her disappear into the crowd, heading for the security checkpoint. With a look across the hall, he made eye contact with another man and nodded.

The second man, also wearing a leather jacket and sporting a Cincinnati Reds baseball hat, nodded in return.

Both men stepped off and followed the redhead.

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"You've got some nerve, Greg." Jade spat the moment Temple entered her cell.

Laughing, Temple carried a rag and made a show of wiping the blood from his knuckles. "You're one to talk, woman."

"What's your end game, Temple?"

"You know what it is." Temple growled and tossed the cloth to the floor so he could light a cigarette. He offered the pack to Jade. She sneered. Not taking the offer, she instead spat in Temple's face.

Snarling, Greg tossed the unlit cigarette aside. He was on her a second later, wrapping his massive hand around her slender neck. "I should crush your throat for that." He used his free hand to wipe the spittle from his cheek.

Struggling for air, Jade's eyes shone with terror. Temple was enjoying the dominance he had over the woman. He continued to squeeze and when her face began to turn blue from the lack of oxygen, he finally released her. She sank to her knees, gasping for breath as her hands explored her damaged windpipe.

"How dare you." She managed to say.

"How does it feel, Jade? How does it feel not being in control? You use your assets to get what you want, you always have, but that's not going to work here. I know your game, woman, and I won't be swayed by your pretty face. Not like that fool Bannon."

"Race is more of a man than you'll ever be." Jade shot back. "He'll kill you for this."

"And what is he going to do when he finds out the part you've played in this entire affair?" Temple laughed. "When he finds out what you've done?"

"You wouldn't." Jade's eyes were filled with fear, but not at Temple.

"No?" Temple turned his head to the side then proceeded to fish out another smoke and light it. "What makes you so sure?"

"What good will that do now?"

"I want Bannon to know that his whorish girlfriend works for The Consortium." Temple stated, the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"That's a lie and you know it, Greg." Jade pleaded.

"Is it? If so, then why are you so frightened?" Temple asked as he turned for the door.

Jade lunged at the ex-agent the moment his back was turned. Even in her weakened state, she had to fight, had to prevent Temple from revealing his knowledge to Race. Temple twisted and snagged Jade's arm out of the air as she swung at him. His grip tightened around her wrist, her mouth hung open from the pain he was causing her.

He pushed her back then with his free hand slapped her across the face. The resulting crack echoed off the wall. "Don't you ever try to lay a hand on me, slut."

Jade cowered. Her face stung, her eyes welled up with tears. "Greg, please,"

"Please what?" He shot back at her.

"You're not well. Can't you see that? Can't you see that this isn't the Greg Temple you once were?"

"What do you know about any of that?" He threw her to the ground and loomed over her.

"I know what's happening to you. I know and I'm sorry, but it's not our fault. It's not Race's fault."

"No, Its not. Its Benton Quest's fault and I'm going to make him regret it." Temple sneered. "I'm going to kill Bannon and then Benton is going to die. But it won't be me that kills that pain in the ass scientist."

"What are you talking about?" Jade stammered.

"I'm going to make his own son do it. And I'm going to laugh as I stand over his corpse. If it's the last thing I do before the sickness takes me, I'm going to watch Benton Quest pay for his crimes."

With that Temple turned and left, slamming the cell door with such force it rattled and the noise reverberated off the walls for almost a solid minute.

Jade pulled her legs up to wrap her arms around her knees. Hanging her head, she cried.

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It hurt to open his eyes, but he somehow managed. Squinting against the white glare, Terry Roberts couldn't tell for sure if he was alive or dead.

Slowly, the room came into focus. He stared at the ceiling tiles, noticing a small water stain on one of them. He heard beeping. His arm ached. His face was nothing but pain. Lowering his eyes, he observed one of his arms in a sling, the other had an IV running into the crook of his elbow.

He groaned. He was in a hospital.

"Hello?" He croaked.

"Terry!"

A voice he knew. The voice of his girlfriend, Karla Altine.

"Muñeca?"

"Terry, you're awake." She ran to the door and shouted. The sudden movement and noise made Roberts' head ache.

She was back at this side a moment later. "My god, Terry."

"Where?"

"Where are you?" She asked and received a short nod.

"You're in the hospital. The Embassy made arrangements for you."

"What happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us." Another voice he knew, Pete Dugger.

The Cajun came over and placed a hand on the railing of Terry's bed. For such a large man, he moved with the grace of a cat at times.

"I…I was attacked."

"We know that." Dugger stated, his voice low and understanding.

"Do you know who attacked you?" Karla asked softly.

"I…" Terry struggled to remember. His head hurt just thinking about it. "I'm not sure…it happened so fast. I can't remember. The others?"

Dugger's faced turned into a frown. "All dead. And the target disappeared."

"No," Roberts moaned. "I…"

"Relax, buddy," Dugger said. "It wasn't your fault."

"I should have done something…"

"Terry, don't," Karla comforted him. She took his free hand gently in hers as to not cause him any pain. "Don't do that."

"What…what…now?"

"You're in Germany. Like Karla said, when you were found, the Embassy took over and flew you here for surgery. Whoever attacked you broke a number of bones in your face and dislocated your shoulder." Dugger answered. "Karla will stay with you and Velk is going to meet you here. They'll stay with you until you can travel back home."

"What about Jonny? And Race?"

"Don't worry about that right now." Dugger gave Karla a sad look.

"Phil? Why isn't he here?"

Again, Dugger didn't answer. Instead he turned to look at the door where a nurse was waiting patiently. Nodding at the woman, she entered and went to work on Terry's IV.

"They'll give you something to help you sleep, Terry." Karla said, her eyes wet from tears.

"No…I don't want…I need…need…to…know…" His eyes fluttered as the morphine drip entered his system.

Minutes later he was asleep again. Karla closed her eyes, fighting back the tears.

"Get some rest, TerBear." She mumbled, kissing his bandaged forehead. Dugger came to her side and put one of his massive arms around her shoulders, pulling her into him so she could cry.

"He'll be alright, Karla. Terry's a fighter. Always has been." Dugger said.

"I want these people to pay, Dug. I'm so tired of all the killing and all the pain." Karla cried against her friend's chest.

"Me too, Karla. Me too."

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The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the smiling face of Lucius Kreed.

"What…where?" Estella mumbled, her throat was parched. She felt hung over.

"Relax, my dear. You are safe." Kreed answered calmly.

Estella placed a hand to her forehead and slowly sat up. She was on a couch and looking around it appeared she was in a hotel room. "Where am I? What happened?"

"Like I said, you are safe." Kreed answered. He gently placed a hand on her arm to steady her and offered her a glass of water.

"Lucius, I don't understand." Estella muttered as her vision came into focus. She was definitely in a hotel room, but other than that, she had no idea where she was.

"You had a bit too much to drink, I'm afraid."

"You said…" She sipped the water. It tasted funny.

"What did I say, Estella?"

"Something about the wine…or not the wine. I don't remember exactly. I feel like I've been asleep for days."

Kreed shrugged. "Your memory seems to be playing tricks on you. That can happen when you consume too much alcohol."

"Where am I?"

"You are in my hotel room." Kreed stood. "I did not feel comfortable leaving you alone due to your condition."

Estella processed what Kreed was saying. Maybe he was being truthful. Thinking back on the days when she was self-medicating, she recalled a number of times when she'd had close calls from mixing her prescription with alcohol. She just didn't remember taking any pills before meeting up with her new companion.

"Where are we?"

Kreed smiled. "Like I said, someplace safe. You should stay here and get some rest, Estella. You do not look well."

"I've had a bad couple of months." She grumbled, rubbing her temples. In fact, she'd had a bad year.

"I am sorry to hear that." Kreed took a seat next to her on the couch. She didn't move away. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Estella paused. Again, Kreed's smile helped alleviate her apprehensions; maybe she did just have too much to drink. But something nagged at the corners of her mind, something she couldn't quite reach. With a sigh, she drank some more of the water and said, "Family problems, that's all. Mainly involving my ex-husband and my daughter."

Estella watched Kreed frown. Or did he smile? Her head was still swimming and she couldn't be entirely sure.

"Is there anything I can do to assist?" Kreed asked. His concern sounded genuine and Estella dismissed her previous thought immediately upon hearing his words.

She smiled a little. "No, it's okay. We've been divorced for a long time, but we always seem to disagree on what's best for our daughter."

"I understand completely." Kreed stated. "I have the same problems in regards to my son."

"Oh, you have a child?" Estella asked.

"He's grown now, but yes. His mother and I never married, but of course when it comes to one's child…"

"Of course." Estella nodded.

"Has the headache stopped?" Kreed asked after a slight pause.

"Mostly." Estella closed her eyes for a moment.

"Good, but I do suggest you get some sleep. Please, use the bed." Kreed motioned towards the doors of the suite that led to the bedroom area of the hotel room.

"I couldn't," Estella stated. "I should really be getting back home."

"I must insist, my dear. On my honor, I will be the perfect gentlemen." Kreed grinned.

Again, Estella felt her insides melt when she gazed upon the Englishman's countenance. "Maybe just until the headache is gone."

Kreed nodded and helped Estella to her feet. Guiding her towards the bedroom, he helped her sit on the bed then stepped back. "When you wake, we can talk some more."

Estella nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Lucius."

"My pleasure, Estella." Kreed gave her a slight nod, then shut the doors.

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The airport in Newark was just as busy as the one in Cincinnati, causing Jessie to hurry to the departure terminal that serviced international flights. She had time, but wanted to ensure she made it to her gate so she could take a moment to compose herself and develop a plan of action in her mind.

Weaving through the crowds for almost twenty minutes, Jessie found the correct terminal, passed through another checkpoint and found her gate. She grabbed a quick bite to eat from one of the fast food restaurants in the noisy corridor, then found a place to sit outside the gate and wait for the next flight.

She popped her ear buds in then grabbed a book she had purchased back in Cincinnati, trying to relax her mind for just a few moments. Scanning the pages, she couldn't concentrate, she continued to read the same paragraph of the fantasy novel multiple times.

With a sigh she set the book down. Glancing about, she noticed more people had made their way to the gate. A noisy family occupied a row of chairs off to her right. Glancing in their direction, she frowned when she saw two young kids running up and down the aisles, their parents either oblivious to their children's' rambunctious behavior or just not caring that they were disturbing the other travelers.

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered why the sight seemed to bother her so much. Maybe it was because she'd never been so undisciplined as a child or perhaps the scene of two young kids, a boy and a girl, playing without a care in the world reminded her of her time with Jonny and Hadji. Either way, the fact that all these people were going about the daily lives, traveling for work, going on vacation, visiting sick relatives, attending weddings, were all doing so without knowing of the very real threats that endangered their lives. Threats from evil people that would do evil things to them simply because it gave them pleasure or brought in money.

Jessie found herself thinking about her father and the men and women in Intelligence One and how they had dedicated their lives to protecting people; people that had no idea what the organization did or even that it existed. Jessie only hoped that she had the strength and the resolve to emulate her father and to institute the lessons that Race, Corbin, and his people had taught her.

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Jonny observed Rage work with keen interest. Having left the operations center, they headed to a laboratory set up in one of the outlying buildings. Jonny didn't speak, choosing to simply observe.

Seated on a backless stool at one of the unoccupied work stations, Jonny was intrigued by the number of people that worked for The Consortium. The leadership had amassed a small army. How the organization had stayed under the radar was something that Jonny just couldn't figure out.

"You going to help or just sit there and watch?"

Jonny blinked. Julia had snuck up behind the teen. Hands on her hips, she stared at Jonny with a look of contempt.

"What's your problem?" Jonny sneered. Julia had been giving him the evil eye ever since he'd arrived at the castle.

"I don't like you, Quest."

"Really?" Jonny rolled his eyes. "I couldn't tell."

"You've got a smart mouth on you," Julia shot back. "and that mouth is going to get you hemmed up sooner rather than later. You don't have Temple here to protect you anymore."

"I don't need him to protect me. Besides, you're just pissy because of what happened to Surd."

"And I shouldn't be? You and your friends killed him."

"We didn't kill him."

"Close enough." Julia spat.

"And they aren't my friends. Not anymore." Jonny added. "So why don't you just back off. I'm not in the fucking mood to talk to you."

"Listen, brat," Julia took a step closer.

Jonny didn't give her a chance. Springing from his seat, he swung at the woman, his fist connecting with her jaw. Staggering, Julia fell back against one of the workstations, rattling a number of the fragile devices on the table.

"You little shit!" Julia screamed and went on the offensive.

Sidestepping her attack, Jonny let the woman pass by harmlessly, then kicked the back of her knees. She crashed into the next table, her arms splaying out before her.

Turning, she swiped her arms, knocking a number of glass beakers to the floor. Her hand found a beaker still on the table. Fingers coiling around the neck, she sneered at her adversary, "I'm going to kill you!"

"Bring it on, bitch." Jonny smirked.

Julia attacked. She closed the short distance between herself and Jonny, swinging her impromptu weapon straight at Jonny's head.

Jonny's arm shot up, protecting his head and the glass shattered against his forearm. Shards sliced into his skin and he winced from the sharp pain that shot through his limb. Julia didn't hesitate. Cocking her other arm, she threw a hook, hitting Jonny in the cheek.

Smiling, she watched the young man grunt from the hit, but he maintained his footing.

' _Stronger than I remember.'_ Julia thought to herself. _'Temple has trained his little lap dog well.'_

Jonny shook off the pain. Moving in for another attack, he planted his back foot and pivoted, executing a perfect roundhouse kick, his boot making contact with the side of Julia's head.

The kick sent her to the ground. Jonny moved in to finish her off, but she was already halfway back to her feet. From a crouch, Julia lunged upward, but she never reached the blonde. From out of nowhere, Rage emerged and grabbed the enraged woman by the back of her collar. "Enough! What's wrong with you?"

"This little punk," Julia started, but Rage pulled her back.

"Are you insane? You cannot be fighting in here! Not with what we are working on!"

Julia struggled, but Rage was too strong and refused to let go of the woman. He tossed her backwards down the aisle. Julia slipped and landed on her behind. "Get out of here." Rage ordered.

The doors opened behind Jonny. Anaya entered, jogging up to the site of the commotion.

"What's going on here?" Anaya demanded.

"Nothing." Jonny breathed, his nostrils flaring, still staring down Julia, who was getting back to her feet.

"All of you, get out!" Rage shouted. "You fools are going to cause a catastrophe!"

"Come on, Jonny." Anaya placed a hand on Jonny's upper arm.

Shrugging her off, he turned and headed for the door, cradling his bleeding forearm.

"Deal with him. I'll handle Julia." Rage told Anaya. The woman nodded and went after Quest.

Jonny was half way across the courtyard when Anaya exited the lab. Running to catch up she once again grabbed Jonny by the arm. This time Jonny stopped.

"What happened in there?" Anaya asked.

"Keep that woman away from me." Jonny growled. "In fact, I don't want to see any of you."

"Jonny, stop this."

"Stop what?" Jonny screamed. "I'm sick and tired of all of this bullshit. Am I part of The Consortium or am I a fucking prisoner that was brought here to be your little trophy?"

"Jonny," Anaya started.

"Where's Temple?" Jonny demanded.

"I can't tell you…"

He cut her off. "Where the fuck is Temple, Anaya? Tell me where he went."

"He went to take care of something."

"What? What is he doing?" Jonny asked, but the adrenaline was wearing off and the venom had left his voice. He could feel the dull throb in his face where Julia had hit him and his arm stung. He went and sat on a crate a few paces away. Sighing, he used his uninjured arm to run a hand through his hair, holding his head.

Anaya went with him. She stood before the distraught Quest, examining him. Her brow furrowed. Jonny was slipping away and right now the only person that could save him was the man that Jonny had come to trust; Greg Temple needed to return.

"Jonny, I don't know what Greg is doing. Honestly, he didn't tell me." It was a lie, but even with Jonny's condition, she couldn't betray Temple.

"I want him to come back." Jonny croaked, his voice low. "He said he wouldn't leave me."

Anaya recognized the hurt in Jonny's voice; he'd come to depend on Temple and now he felt abandoned.

"He didn't abandon you." Anaya said reassuringly. "He'll be back. I know he will."

"But when?"

"Soon, I hope."

"I miss him, Anaya. He's the only one that cares about me."

"I miss him too, Jonny." With a sigh, she placed a hand on Jonny's knee causing the boy to look up at her. His face was hollow, he was crying. "Let's go get your arm bandaged up. You don't want to risk getting an infection. Ezekiel can take care of everything in the lab."

"What's your father going to say when he finds out about what happened in there?" Jonny asked.

Anaya shook her head and smiled, "Don't worry about him. I'll tell him what happened; that Julia provoked you."

"Well, that is what happened."

"I know. Don't worry about my father, Jonny. He'll listen to me. He doesn't even like that woman being a part of our group, but her involvement was necessary. She brought us a lot of knowledge in regards to our cyber operations, things she learned from Surd."

"I swear, Anaya, if she gets in my face again…I'll fucking kill her."

Anaya grinned. "You'd be doing all of us a favor if you did that, Jonny." Stepping back, she gave Jonny room to stand. "Come on, let's head inside."

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"Eat up, Racer." Temple smirked.

Race squinted against the harshness of the lights in his cell that Temple had turned on when he entered. Sitting up, he shielded his eyes. Temple tossed an orange; the fruit bounced off of Race's arm and rolled to a stop on the mattress.

"Like I'm going to eat anything you give me." Race grumbled. Every inch of his body was sore from the beatings and torture that Temple and his men had inflicted upon him, however he was determined not to show Greg that he was getting to him.

"Please," Greg mewed. "You think I'd kill you by poisoning your food? Where's the fun in that?"

Race eyed his adversary as Temple stepped into the cell. Two guards entered and blocked the door, leveling AK-47s at Race. Temple leaned against the far wall opposite Race, putting enough distance between himself and his captive to let him know he'd be gunned down before he could make a move at Greg.

Race picked up the orange. Giving Temple a look, he tore into the fruit; peel and all. Greg laughed maliciously as he watched Race devouring the orange.

"Have you figure everything out yet?" Greg asked.

Race continued to chew and didn't answer until he'd consumed the entire orange and wiped his mouth with the back of his bare forearm.

"I've figured out that you're insane." Race answered. "I don't blame you though. I know it's the nerve gas that warped your mind."

"You said that once to me back on the island. And like I told you then, it didn't warp my mind, but gave me clarity of thought."

"Keep telling yourself that, Greg." Race replied. He made no move towards Greg or the gunmen, instead deciding to see what Temple had to say.

Greg shrugged then shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked content. It was a look that gave Race pause.

"Well, what is it then?" Race prodded when Temple didn't say anything. "I know you have Jonny, you told me that much in our first meeting. What have you done to him?"

"I've trained him. Just like I trained you." Greg replied.

"Why?"

"He's good, Racer. Really good. I mean he's not better than me, but he's definitely better than you."

"My mistake was confusing your arrogance as confidence." Race shot back.

"Are they not mutually exclusive?"

"Just tell me what you want with me? You want secrets? Secrets for The Consortium to use against I-1 and Benton? You know I'll never talk."

"I don't care about secrets. Not anymore." Temple leaned his head back against the wall. "I-1 is destroyed."

"You failed to kill Corbin. I don't believe for a second he's given up. If anything you've given I-1 more motivation to hunt you down. You may kill me, but sooner or later, someone is going to put you down like a rabid dog."

"I doubt that." Temple grumbled. "You're the best I-1 had. And now I have you. No one else can come close."

"You underestimate your former colleagues, Greg. You think The Consortium is the answer to your problems? You know as well as I do that there is no honor amongst criminals. But the Agents that you've wronged, the people you've hurt and killed, they take it personally. Our brotherhood is stronger than yours and that is going to be your undoing."

"So poetic, Racer." Temple grunted, but to Race it seemed his words rattled Temple, maybe just a little, but it could be enough.

"So you think that by hurting Jonny you're going to achieve something? What exactly? What did he ever do to you, Greg?"

"I haven't hurt the boy. I've only shown him the truth and helped him become a man."

"That's his father's job, not yours."

"His father did nothing for him. Jonny is strong and I've helped him see that."

"What have you done to him?" Race asked, not liking Temple's tone.

"I've groomed him to replace me in The Consortium."

"You've turned him into a killer? What's the matter with you, Greg?" Race was astonished. "Jonny's not a killer. And neither were you back in the day. What happened? What made you turn against your country?"

"A country that did nothing for us? A country that left us to die in rat infested shitholes? Denying our existence when things got too political? We were nothing but pawns for I-1. Assets to be used and disposed of whenever it suited their whims. You were too blinded by your patriotism to see it, Bannon, but it was there."

Race shook his head; he'd hit a nerve in Temple. "That's not true."

"Isn't it? Bullshit. Stop lying to yourself. You saw it with your own eyes. I even proved it and you still couldn't see it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Greenland didn't turn me, Racer. I was already turned. But only after I saw what I-1 was doing. I tried to tell Stephens, but he wouldn't listen. He was a politician, not an Agent. He didn't give a damn about us. He left us out there to die and I proved it. You remember Cape Town?"

"I was never on mission in South Africa." Race answered, his eyes narrowing as he studied his former friend.

Greg shook his head. "No, you weren't, but Corbin was and you went after him when he was compromised."

"What do you know about that?" Race asked, he didn't want to believe what Temple was implying.

"I know everything because I'm the one that made it happen." Temple laughed.

"You set Phil up? Why? What the fuck, man?"

"I did it to prove my point and it worked. I-1 left him to die. They sold him out."

"No, _you_ sold him out, you son of a bitch!" Race shouted, causing the gunmen to tighten their grips on their rifles.

Greg waved his men off. "It was necessary. Lucky for him, he had his buddy Race Bannon to save him."

"More than you'd ever done for anyone. You fucking asshole, Greg. Damnit, how could you? Do you have any idea what they did to him there? They beat Phil half to death in South Africa and that wasn't even the worst of it. They fucked with his head, played fucking mind games with him for their own amusement. You ever have someone put a gun to your head and squeeze the trigger? Over and over? That's what they did. That's what _you_ did to a man that called you a friend; a brother, you sick fuck."

Temple shrugged, "What does it matter? He recovered and now he's the Director…well…was that is. A man can only evade the Reaper for so long."

"That's right, Greg. Your time is up. I swear to God I'm going to kill you. You betrayed your friends. You sold us out and now you're corrupting Jonny Quest. And for what? To satisfy some twisted sense of moral justice you seem to have developed? I said it before, you're fucking insane, Greg."

"Again, you're too blinded by the bullshit to see what I'm trying to do." Greg answered.

"Fucking traitor!" Fury took over and Race attacked. He was on Greg before the gunmen could react, causing them to pause so they wouldn't shoot their boss.

Ramming his shoulder into Temple's midsection, Race knocked the air out his opponent's lungs. But Temple recovered quickly. Wrapping Race up in his arms, Greg twisted and tossed the weakened Bannon aside. Race smacked against the wall, his back flaring with pain as he dropped.

"That's your problem, Racer." Greg spat, kicking the fallen Race in the gut. "You're too fucking emotional. You care too much about shit that doesn't matter. Jonny's not even your kid, but you'll give up your life to save him? Fucking pathetic."

He leaned down and punched Race in the side of the face, furious at Bannon's attack. Race groaned and tried to stand. Temple punched him again, sending him down to his stomach.

Crouching down, Temple picked Race up by the throat and slammed him against the wall. "You think you can kill me? You can't kill me, Racer. You'll never be able to kill me."

Race gasped for air as Greg squeezed tighter. Leaning in he said, "I'd enjoy nothing more than killing you right now, Bannon, but I won't. I want you to suffer. I want you to beg for your life and then when it's too much I want you to beg for death."

"I'll never beg to you." Race growled against Temple's hold.

"Oh you will, Racer." Greg let go. Race fell to his knees, gasping and sucking in breaths. Greg stared down at Race, the hate that filled his heart was reflected in his manic eyes. Snapping his fingers, he called to the guards.

The two men rushed over and proceeded to beat Race with the butts of their rifles with such fury that all Race could do was put his arms over his head to protect himself. Eventually, he passed out from the beating, the last thing he heard was Temple's insane laughter.

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Seated in waiting area for the adjoining gate, the man in the Bengals hat held a book in his hands, but his eyes were not reading the words. Instead they peered out from beneath the brim of his hat, staring at the redheaded daughter of Race Bannon.

His eyes shifted to the side to observe his partner in the Reds hat. He too was located behind the redhead, but he was at the bar of a restaurant, sipping a cocktail and glancing between the girl and the television behind the bar. He met his partner's eyes and nodded.

Looking back at the redhead, he saw she was still seated in the same spot. Standing, he grabbed his carry-on bag and headed over to the bar.

Tapping a finger against the wooden countertop the man flagged down the bartender and ordered a beer. Once he received his drink, he turned and leaned his back against the bar, his eyes once again locating Jessie.

Without looking at his compatriot, he took a swig of his beer and said, "She'll board."

"Of course she will." The other man stated after sipping his cocktail.

The Bengal's fan sighed, "She looks beat down. Tired. But most of all…determined."

"She's the daughter of Race Bannon. It's in her blood." The Red fans stated, his eyes watching Jessie from under the brim of his hat.

Pushing his hat up on his head, the Bengals fan rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I know."

His friend laughed, causing the man to turn shoot a look at him. He finished his beer and slapped some cash on the counter.

"You know the plan." The Reds fan stated.

"Yeah. I know what to do."

"Good."

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Jessie fell in line to board her flight. She shuffled down the jet way behind the family with the two young kids. She hoped they weren't going to be seated anywhere close to her.

Making her way to her seat, she kept her backpack with her since she was located in coach in a window seat. _'Thanks for upgrading to first class, I-1'_ She joked to herself. But at this point she didn't care, all she wanted was to take her seat and get some rest. She'd been battling exhaustion since Cincinnati and the long flight to Glasgow would give her a chance to catch up on some much needed sleep.

She found her seat. Retrieving her book and iPod she shoved the backpack under the seat in front of her and sat down. She watched aimlessly as the rest of the passengers boarded, directed to their seats by the flight attendants or pushing their bags into the overhead bins. To Jessie it was just like any other flight she'd ever been on, except the reason for her flight was something she never fathomed she'd be doing.

The jet was filling up and Jessie groaned when a muscular, good looking man wearing a Bengals hat pointed at the seat next to her and said, "My seat."

Jessie nodded and tried to smile. _'Figures I get a seat next to someone as big as my dad.'_

The man shoved his bag into the overhead bin then sat. Jessie swore the plane creaked under his weight. She glanced at him briefly then turned her attention to her book. _'Please don't talk to me.'_ She prayed. It wasn't that she wouldn't mind talking, but at the moment all she wanted was for the plane to depart so she could sleep.

"Traveling alone?" He asked while buckling his seatbelt.

Jessie tried not to roll her eyes. Instead she smiled and replied, "Yep."

"Where you headed?"

' _Really? I get a gabber next to me?'_

Jessie remembered her backstory. "Back to school. I'm studying abroad, but had to come home for a family emergency."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that." The man answered. He extended his hand, "Name's Rob."

' _Maybe talking will actually get me to relax.'_ She thought.

"Jessica." Jessie shook his hand. He had an amazingly strong handshake. "So what about you?"

"Huh? Oh, business trip."

"Really? What business are you in?"

"Private security." The man named Rob answered.

"Interesting." Jessie replied.

Rob shrugged, "It's alright. Pays the bills. I have a conference to attend in Glasgow, but then my kids are going to fly over and we'll do some traveling."

"Sounds like fun." Jessie missed her trips around the world with her family; with Jonny. "So you a Bengals fan?"

"What? Oh the hat? Nah, not really. My kid got this for me because it has a tiger on it, she loves cats. I prefer college football."

"Who's your team?"

Rob gave her a little smile. "You like football?"

"Just cause I'm a girl doesn't mean I don't like sports."

"Touché." He laughed. "SEC. Gators are my team. You?"

"Big Ten. Cornhuskers." Jessie gave the appropriate response based on her back story.

"Well at least I didn't get seated next to an Alabama fan. Those are the worst." He rolled his eyes jokingly.

Jessie laughed.

He seemed to notice the book in her lap for the first time. "Oh, hey, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. My wife always says I'm a Chatty Cathy."

"It's okay." Jessie smiled; she found herself warming up to the man.

"It's a long flight. If I fall asleep and you need to get out just elbow me in the gut."

Jessie giggled. "Count on it, Mister."

Rob laughed a little then settled back for the flight.

Jessie watched as he closed his eyes, pulling the brim of his hat down to block out the light.

Sighing she tucked her book in the seat pocket in front of her and closed her eyes. A feeling of calm and safeness washed over her for the first time since she fled from the horrific scene at the Ohio farmhouse.

Eyelids heavy, her last thought before drifting off to sleep was _, 'I haven't given up. I'm coming for you, Jonny.'_

Before she knew it, she was asleep and the plane was in flight.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

She hadn't figured her first trip to Glasgow would be as an impromptu covert operator who was violently thrown into the world of shadow organizations, espionage, kidnapping, and murder. Yet, here she was and there was no turning back now. She had followed Corbin's instructions to the letter and the long flight from the United States to Scotland had given her time to review all of the training she'd been given. Even though she'd only been with Phil for a short time, he and his people had filled her with a plethora of knowledge and skills that she now was being forced to call upon as she operated in a solo capacity; Phil had been right about at least one thing, the world she had chosen to enter was nothing like she thought it would be. But if her mentor's death had taught her anything, it was to focus and remain resilient.

She'd find Jonny and her father, while at the same time making those responsible for Corbin's demise pay; and they'd pay dearly.

The short taxi ride from the airport took her to a small, hole in the wall hotel in the heart of Glasgow. Inconspicuously tucked into the side of a row of buildings, one might not even notice it was there. She assumed that was why it had been chosen as her destination.

After checking in, she made her way to her room. A quick sweep confirmed that she was alone. Tossing her small suitcase on the bed, she opened the nightstand and found the plain manila envelope; Phil might no longer be at her side, but whoever his operators in the area were, they were following his instructions just as much as she was.

Inside the envelope was a single sheet of paper with four numbers written on it. Moving to the closet, Jessie pushed the doors open to find an assortment of clothing hanging inside. Pushing the garments to the side she uncovered the small safe.

Kneeling in front of the black box, she punched in the numbers from the paper and watched as the small indicator light changed from red to green. Twisting and pulling on the handle, she opened the safe and withdrew three large envelopes of varying sizes.

Taking the packages to the small table, she set them down and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge in the corner of the room. Sitting down at the table, she tore open the first and heaviest envelope; inside was a HK P30SK chambered in 9mm along with three fully loaded magazines and a concealed carry holster.

The second envelope contained an assortment of cash in a variety of currencies; U.S. dollars, EUROs, and British Pounds. She set the piles of cash aside to count and sort later.

She tore open the third and thinnest envelope last. Inside was a single sheet of paper with an address and time written down. Jessie fired up her laptop, connected to the internet, and searched for the address. As she sipped the water, the search result popped up with the identity of her next stop.

Gulping the last of the water, she looked at the time. She had a number of hours before she had to be at the next location. Crushing the flimsy bottle in her fist, Jessie paused, a bit shocked by her actions; in crushing the bottle she realized that since arriving in Glasgow she was completely devoid of emotions. It was as if she left all of her pain, misery, anger, and grief on the plane. Now she was focused and determined to see her mission through to the very end, no matter the cost.

Standing she stretched and headed for the bathroom; she could use a long, hot shower and a couple hours of rest.

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His face blank, his emotions frayed, Jonny watched his companions with a look of indignation. Glancing at his bandaged arm, he no longer felt any pain thanks to the drugs that he'd taken from Temple's room.

Running a hand over the bandages, Jonny went and sat down on the couch. The two girls from the other night were giggling, too high at the moment to see Jonny's frustration.

"Thanks again for hooking us up, Hotshot." One of the girls said before leaning down to the coffee table and snorting another line.

"Don't call me that." Jonny grumbled.

"Why? It's what Temple calls you." The second girl replied.

"Yeah, it's what he calls me. I didn't say you could call me that." Jonny shot back.

The girls frowned, but didn't dispute him. They went back to their giggles.

With a sigh, Jonny partook in some more of the drugs himself. The powder burned in his nose, but the rush he felt made him forget his annoyance and his pain. Leaning back, he closed his eyes.

Slowly, the sounds in the room changed. The girls were no longer laughing. Slowing opening his eyes, he looked over and saw they were now making out; kissing, moaning, and rubbing each other seductively. Jonny watched.

One of the girl's eyes connected with his. Smiling she said, "Why don't you join us, Jonny?"

He didn't say anything and the girls went back to their make out session. On one hand, he was enjoying the show they were putting on for him, on the other he didn't care at all; it was an odd sensation battling within him. Snuggling up next to him one of the girls kissed Jonny's lips. He did not returned it.

The second girl moved to the other side of Jonny, her hands exploring his body through his clothes.

Without looking at either one, he ordered, "Go to the bed."

They did as he wanted. Standing they made their way towards his bed, stripping each other of their garments.

Jonny remained seated on the couch. He watched the girls continue their make out session, their excitement and enjoyment of one another taking over. Eventually, they became entwined in each other's bodies, their passion making them forget about Jonny.

Listening to their moans of erotic passion, Jonny found himself getting aroused as the girls heightened their pleasure for each other and lost themselves in their own sexual escapades.

Closing his eyes, Jonny enjoyed the sounds he heard from his companions. Drinking it all in, he began to drift asleep as the women screamed passionately for each other.

 _Stepping out of the shower, Jonny stretched wearily. Peering at himself in the mirror he smiled as he thought about the fight and how good it felt to put the punk in his place. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Jonny ran a comb through his hair then stepped into his room._

 _He stopped dead in his tracks before a sly grin spread across his face._

 _"I thought I was going to have to come in there and coax you out." Jessie smiled. She was lying across Jonny's bed, stomach down with her chin propped in her hands and her feet kicking forward and back behind her. All she wore was her string bikini and flipping her neck, brushing her thick flowing hair to the side, she made a show of undoing the loop at the back of her neck for the top._

 _Enjoying the vision, Jonny moved forward and said, "Well, perhaps you should have done that."_

 _"What you did out there…I was so turned on and I had to resist jumping your bones right on the spot." Jessie breathed as her eyes studied Jonny's nearly naked form, droplets of water still running down his sleek, well defined muscles._

 _"Oh really?" Jonny reached the edge of the bed as Jessie pulled herself up into a kneeling position on top of the mattress; her bikini top remaining on the bed to expose her smooth, creamy breasts. Leaning into her, Jonny cupped her chin in his hands, kissing her wildly as her hands tore the towel from his waist; revealing that he was already aroused. Pressing their bodies together, Jessie moaned as she felt him rub against her slowly, the friction between the two sending shockwaves of delight through her body. Pulling away from his kiss, Jessie held his gaze, her eyes communicating her next move._

 _Smiling Jonny turned as Jessie moved off the bed. She ran her hands along his sides, causing his eyes to flutter and a groan of expectation to pass his lips. She pecked her lips to his then moved slowly, yet purposefully down his body, her tongue just barely touching his skin as she did, sensitive jolts coursing through him as she made her way towards her prize._

 _"Oh, Jess." Jonny moaned as she knelt before him. His fingers running lovingly through his brilliant red hair._

 _Looking up to meet his eyes, she ran her thumb and index finger up and down him, from his head down to lightly fondle his balls, each one in turn. Moaning from her touch, she felt his desire for her as her fingers continued to stroke him intimately. Her tongue tasted him a moment later, tracing the path her fingers had just traversed up to his waiting head._

 _Flicking him, teasing him just for a moment, she waited till she heard him groan uncontrollably then took him completely into her mouth. He shuddered with pleasure as her lips sealed around him, sucking him slowly at first, but faster and deeper as he thrusts his hips in synch with her._

 _"That's what I need." He moaned._

 _She continued to pleasure him with her mouth._

 _"I can't take it anymore." He growled and reached down to lift her up. Turning her towards the bed, he propped her up on the edge, tearing the rest of her skimpy bikini away so her legs opened to him immediately._

 _"Then take me now, Jonny." Jessie urged as she hooked her legs around his waist._

 _He didn't wait, he pushed into her the moment her legs were set. Gasping from his feral desires, he thrust deep, hard, and fast; arms propped on each side of her as he continued to give her what she craved. He gazed with animalistic passion into her eyes. Her hands grasped his forearms as he drove harder into her with each thrust. She screamed his name, releasing her orgasm at the same moment as he grunted and poured into her; their mutual desires melding with one another at the exact same moment._

 _Inhaling and exhaling rapidly, Jonny continued to rock steadily as the last of himself spilled into his lover. Smiling, he leaned down and kissed her passionately before dropping his head on the mattress next to hers._

 _With a slow moan, Jessie turned her head and sucked lightly on Jonny's earlobe. Moving her legs to allow him to join her on the bed, Jessie slid over as Jonny lied down next to her._

 _"That was the best yet." He sighed happily as he cocked a leg over hers and stroked her flat stomach in a gesture of love._

 _"Jonny." Jessie breathed his name lovingly._

 _"I've missed this."_

Opening his eyes, the room was dark. Glancing towards the balcony he saw that night had already arrived. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, his dream had felt so real, but it had ended so quickly.

 _Jessie._

The dream, the memory, of their last time together before they had been kidnapped. Before Jessie had abandoned him.

' _Did she abandon me?'_ He thought as the dream began to fade. _'Greg said she did. And her dad did kill my mom. But…what if…what if…'_

"No." He whispered aloud. "Greg told me the truth. No what ifs…they're not my family. They don't love me. _SHE_ doesn't love me."

Standing, Jonny went to his bed. Clicking on the lamp on the nightstand, he found the two girls wrapped in each other's arms, fast asleep. They were naked, but their attractive forms did nothing for Jonny.

Jonny nudged the girl closet to him. Her eyes fluttered, but she didn't respond. Jonny pushed her a bit harder. "Wake up."

With a groan, the girl opened her eyes. Her companion stirred as well. She smiled at Jonny, but the look on his face didn't excite the girl.

"You need to leave." Jonny stated bluntly.

"Jonny," The girl started, but Jonny had already turned his back to her. He picked up the bundle of clothing from the floor and threw it at the women.

"I said leave." Jonny said again with more forcefulness in his voice.

The girls frowned. As they dressed one looked at Jonny, "Wouldn't you rather we stay? You look like you could use some company."

"If I have to say it one more time," Jonny growled.

He'd made his point. The girls didn't argue any further. Once dressed, they headed for the door, throwing nervous glances towards the blonde.

"And don't come back." Jonny stated when they'd reached the exit. "Don't talk to me, don't even look at me anymore. You had your fun, but it's over. Go find some other sap that wants to play your games."

Shocked at his statement, the girls frowned. "You're real piece of work, Quest." One snorted. "You're no different than that lunatic Temple. Just a younger version of him."

"Get the fuck out!" Jonny shouted. He took a menacing step towards her; delighted in the fear he saw in her eyes.

They almost lost their footing in their attempts to extract themselves from Jonny's room. Snarling, he watched them leave and the moment they were clear of the door, he slammed it shut.

"How dare they?" He growled. Balling his hands into fists, Jonny hit himself on the forehead a few times. He'd never felt such a rush of anger before, never so sudden. He didn't hate those girls, but he didn't care about them either. He cared about Temple and their insults towards his mentor had sent him over the edge.

Grumbling, Jonny went back to his bed, but he didn't get in. He couldn't sleep at the moment even though it was the middle of the night. Crouching down, he pulled his gym bag out from where he'd stashed it beneath the bed.

Unzipping it, he grabbed his pistol. It was right on the top where he'd left it. Attaching his holster to his belt, he loaded a magazine into the firearm and shoved it into his holster. Next he grabbed his spare magazines and tossed them on the bed.

Grabbing his coat, he shrugged into it, picked up the spare magazines and put them in his pockets.

He needed to let off some steam. Pushing the bag back under the bed with his foot, he left his room, locking it on the way out then made his way through the corridors to find the indoor range.

His mind completely focused on his task, Jonny didn't see Julia hiding in the shadows at the far end of the hallway. Smiling, she watched the young Quest round a corner and disappear down the steps.

Emerging from her concealed hiding spot, Julia chuckled under her breath. She'd seen the girls exit Jonny's room. She didn't care who they were, only that she now had, what she thought, was ammunition to use against the boy just in case she'd ever need it.

"Serves you right, you little brat." Julia mumbled. "I'm going to enjoy watching your eventual downfall from my front row seat."

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Scribbling down his latest annotation, Benton set his pen down. Arms above his head, he stretched, a long tired yawn escaping from his mouth.

Hadji was at his side a moment later, examining his father's notes with a quick glance. "Do you think this might work, father?"

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms, Benton's brow furrowed. "I cannot know for certain, son, but its hopeful."

He fished his phone from his lab coat pocket, set it down next to his notepad and placed a call to Agent Dugger. The phone rang a number of times, but eventually the I-1 man answered the call.

"Yes, Doctor Quest?" The Cajun's voice bled through the speakerphone.

Benton noted the tiredness in the man's voice. Dugger had informed Benton that he had to travel to Germany, but a quick glance at the wall clock told Benton that the Agent should be on his way back to the states.

"Agent Dugger, how is Agent Roberts?"

"He's had better days of course, but he'll be okay. It'll take some time and his first surgery is scheduled for this evening, however the doctors are hopeful that he'll make a full recovery."

"That is definitely positive news." Hadji stated.

"Yes." Dugger grumbled.

Benton had no doubt that Dugger's attitude was a direct result of the pain and misery The Consortium was inflicting upon not only Benton's family, but Intelligence One as well. He'd known Dugger casually for years and the Cajun was the type of man that took attacks against his colleagues personally. He and Race were good friends and their shared moral beliefs gave Benton a sense of contentment knowing that these Agents were dedicated and determined to not only save Jonny, but also bring down The Consortium.

"I may have had a breakthrough in regards to the mixture The Consortium is giving to these kids." Benton stated, getting to the crux of his call to the I-1 Agent.

"That's good news." Dugger replied optimistically.

"Yes, however without the ability to perform a battery of tests it is virtually impossible to determine if this is the correct formula."

Benton did not like what he was asking, it went against every ethical and moral stance he'd ever taken as a scientist. But he had to know if it would work in order to save his son.

"You want to test it on one of our prisoners?" Dugger asked, knowing exactly what Benton needed.

"Only if they volunteer. They'd have to be fully aware of what we are trying to do. This could aid in their recovery."

"Well one is still in a coma." Dugger stated. "The other...well...he hasn't really spoken much since we put him under twenty four hour surveillance. He talked to Corbin a bit, but he's not saying much to anyone else."

"When are you scheduled to arrive in D.C.?" Benton asked.

"Six hours, Doctor. Why?"

"I'll meet you at I-1 Headquarters. Perhaps I can speak with Hayes and get him to understand we are trying to help him."

Benton heard Dugger grumbling, but he didn't care. He needed to know if the synthetic drug he'd created would actually counter the effects of the narcotics these men had been given or not. "If I need to speak to someone else, Agent Dugger..." Benton let the statement hang.

"No," Dugger replied immediately; it was obvious he didn't want his authority or his judgment being questioned. "Meet me at Headquarters and we'll go from there."

"Thank you." Benton replied before ending the call.

Looking at his eldest son, Benton nodded. "Let's get ready, son. This could be the break we need. That Jonny needs."

"I'll let the Agent in charge of the security detail know." Hadji remarked, heading towards the lab exited.

"If you see Estella, please ask her to meet me in the kitchen." Benton called out.

"I have not seen her in some time. I'll ask the Agents and have IRIS run a scan." Hadji frowned.

Benton gave his son a nod then turned to gather up his notes and secure the appropriate sample dosages for the trip to D.C. _'I wonder where Estella has gone.'_ He mused as he worked.

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"How are you feeling?" Kreed asked the moment Estella stepped through the French doors of the hotel suite.

"Better." Estella responded. Her headache was gone and her mind, while groggy from sleeping, was starting to clear.

"Excellent." Kreed smiled. "I was worried about you, Estella."

"Thank you," She smiled a little. "How long was I asleep?"

"Quite some time. It is already past midnight."

"My God," She gasped. "I need to be getting home."

Kreed frowned. "I can have my driver take you, however, with the lateness of the hour, perhaps you should just stay here until breakfast. I would like to have one last meal with you before I depart."

"You're leaving? So soon?" Estella sat on the couch. Kreed took a seat in one of the chairs across from her.

"I am afraid so, my dear. Like I said before, I have some business that requires my presence."

"I see." She frowned, her eyes downcast towards the floor.

"Have you thought more about my offer?" Kreed asked.

"Oh believe me, Lucius, I would love to get away for awhile, but I'm afraid now is just not the right time."

"Because of your ex?" Kreed made sure he sounded disappointed. "I should have known."

"No, it's not him." Estella threw in quickly, "Believe me, it has nothing to do with him."

"Then what is it?"

Estella sighed. What was keeping her from leaving with Kreed? Her support for Benton? Her hope that Jessie would have a change of heart and come back home?

"I don't know." She huffed.

"Estella, please believe me when I say that I would never force you to do anything you do not want. However, if you would allow me to make a candid observation…"

"Yes?" She looked at him questionably.

Kreed put on his most charismatic smile, "You appear so distraught that I think a change of scenery, even just a short holiday, would do wonders for you. If it is your ex-husband that is causing you so much stress, I would think getting away from him, or at least the thought of him, would do you good."

Estella studied Lucius, her eyes taking in his charming face. She didn't think he had any ulterior motives; if he had wanted to hurt her or have his way with her, he had had more than enough opportunity to do so in her inebriated state. No, she believed his concern for her was just that, gentlemanly concern.

' _And why must I always think that a man is only interested in me to hurt me?'_ She thought. _'Perhaps he just really does like me.'_

"You know, Lucius." Estella smiled. "I think you're right. I think a vacation would do me some good."

His face brightened. "You have no idea how happy it makes me hearing you say that."

"I should really let my friend know that I'm going to be gone for a few days before we leave." Estella stated, not wanting Benton to worry about her disappearing without a trace; he had enough on his mind already.

"Of course," Kreed smiled. "I wouldn't want someone to think I've stolen you away."

The comment made Estella blink, but she brushed it off as a case of that dry British humor. "Of course not, Lucius."

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After the last confrontation with Temple, they'd beaten Race until he passed out and left him lying on the floor. It was the same spot they found him in when they returned to the cell.

He had no idea how long he'd been out, but when the guards wrenched his arms behind his back to handcuff him, the pain that jolted through his body was enough to wake him from his groggy state.

They tried to pull him to his feet, but he remained slack. Race refused to make it easy for his captors. With annoyed grunts, the two men each hooked an arm through Race's and dragged him from the cell. Race kept his head low and his eyes closed; it hurt too much to move at the moment.

Eventually, they reached their destination. It was the same interrogation room as before. With more force than was necessary, the men hefted Race up and threw him into the metal chair; one quickly attaching a set of handcuffs to the chair, connected them with the cuffs Race already wore. This time they would ensure he couldn't attack Temple.

Race kept his head low as the men backed off. A moment later, he heard Temple's heavy footfalls. He smelt the cigarette his adversary smoked. He could hear the low chuckle of Temple's insane amusement.

"How you feeling, Racer?" Temple asked.

Race didn't respond. He didn't move.

"Don't want to talk? That's not very polite." Temple growled. Reaching out, he latched on to Race's thigh; digging his fingers into the stab wound. Temple grinned as Race's head shot upward, his jaw clenched in an effort to fight against the urge to cry out from the pain.

Greg squeezed harder then released Race. Breathing heavily, Race whispered, "Why?"

"Why you ask?" Temple straightened. "Do you really need to ask that question?"

"What did I ever do to you? What did Jonny do to you?"

"You don't get to ask the questions, Racer. That's not how this works." Temple snarled. He took a deep drag from his cigarette then pushed the burning end against Race's bare shoulder.

His skin burned, the cigarette sizzled, the pain intensified. Race gasped and the guards laughed.

"Are you ready to beg yet?" Temple questioned after he tossed the cigarette butt to the floor.

"I told you," Race heaved. "I'll never beg."

"Yes you will." Temple spat. Balling his hands into fists, he landed a solid right hook to the side of Race's head. Then he hit him with a left. The beating commenced; a series of right hooks, left hooks, and body blows. Temple didn't ask any questions, he simply beat his former friend until Race was a bloody mess.

Stepping back from his prisoner, Temple glared at the sagging, bloody form of Race Bannon. "Undo the restraining cuffs." He ordered.

His men did as told and a moment later Race fell to the floor. His arms were still behind his back, still constricted by the original set of handcuffs. Temple crouched down next to Race and watched the white haired man's chest rise and fall; he was still alive. Temple would ensure that Race stayed alive only until the moment that Temple deemed as Race's time to die.

He patted Race on the head, a gesture that under normal circumstances would be made out of care and concern, but that was not the case here. Temple mocked Race; he enjoyed the suffering he was causing; he reveled in it.

"Time for a short break, Racer." Temple mewed. He watched Race's body slacken at his words. "My men will help you get cleaned up and take you back to your cell. I have a few things I need to discuss with your friend Jade."

"If you hurt her..." Race whispered.

Temple grinned, continuing to stroke Race's hair. "Why on earth would I do that, Racer? Jade is on my side. Jade is part of The Consortium."

Grabbing a fistful of Race's hair, Temple smiled at Race's exasperated look brought on by Temple's words. Grinning, Temple smacked the back of Race's head against the floor then let go. Standing, he didn't say another word to Race as he exited.

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The Angry Goat was located only a few blocks from Jessie's hotel. The hour was late, the streets were lit, but there was plenty of spots cloaked in shadows. Jessie's eyes scanned the groups of people that strolled along the sidewalk. She didn't feel like she was under observation, but she remained vigilant regardless.

Finding the pub was easy enough. A wooden sign hung above the door, the image of a perturbed black goat wearing boxing gloves with the name of the establishment scrawled below the animal was enough to confirm for Jessie that she was at the right place.

Pushing through the door, Jessie's eyes adjusted to her new surroundings. The lighting was low and the place was crowded, a soft murmur of voices combined with the volume of a number of televisions engulfed Jessie's ears immediately upon entering. A smoky haze filled the front room and Jessie's nose confirmed the distinct mix of pipe tobacco and cigarettes, making her wonder how people could tolerate being in such a cramped space with so many fumes hanging in the air.

The bar itself was old. The polished oak had a number of nicks and dings running throughout. A large selection of beer taps lined part of the bar and just about every type of hard liquor imaginable was at the back, near a large reflective mirror. Glass mugs hung from hangers above the bar and a portly man with a thick mustache worked behind the counter.

Stepping up, Jessie nudged past two men who were engaged in a hot debate over the latest football match. One looked at her briefly, but turned back to his friend to continue their argument.

"What are ya havin', Lass?" The bartender asked. His large gut, rosy cheeks, and heavy sweater reminded her of Santa Claus; a Scottish Santa Claus when you added in his thick accent.

"An ale. Don't care what kind. Surprise me." Jessie replied.

She heard the footballers laugh a bit. "American girl, aye?" One said. "You best be careful drinking ol' Seamus' brew. It'll put you on your arse, little lady."

Jessie gave the man a smile, but didn't say anything. Seamus, the bartender, looked at the man, "Leave the wee lass alone, Billy. From the looks of that fiery mane of hers she's got some Scot in her."

Jessie took an instant liking to Ol' Seamus. Watching as he poured her a huge ale from one of the taps, she pulled up a barstool and took a seat. She smiled at him. Setting a coaster down in front of her then putting the glass on top, he asked, "What's brings ya to The Goat?"

"Yeah, why'd you wander into this crappy place?" Billy asked, lighting a cigarette, he made sure he didn't blow it at Jessie, instead turning his chin upward to exhale.

"It looked…interesting." Jessie replied. She took a sip of the beer and her nose immediately turned upward from the strength. She resisted the urge to choke, but was unsuccessful.

All three men laughed, but they weren't being malicious. "I told ya so, Lass." Billy stated.

"Can it, Billy." Seamus remarked then turned back to Jessie. "You shouldn't be out wandering around by yourself, Lass."

"I'll be alright." Jessie replied, comforted by the weight of the concealed handgun beneath her jacket.

A call from the end of the bar drew Seamus away and Billy and his comrade returned to their sports talk. Picking the glass up again, Jessie fingered the coaster. Flipping it over, she saw a hand scrawled message around the edge. "Ten minutes. Cellar. Take the back stairs."

Glancing at her watch, Jessie slipped the coaster into her jacket pocket, then took another swig of her ale.

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"Progress, Ezekiel?" Zin stepped into the lab.

The hour was late and the lab was deserted except for Rage. Turning at the Mongolian scientist's question, Rage stared at the man from behind his death mask. "Now that I no longer have to worry about immature children bickering and fighting in my lab, I have been able to concentrate fully upon the task."

"And?" Zin stepped next to Rage as the former I-1 Agent turned deranged madman handed Zin a stoppered vial.

"I have successfully replicated Doctor Arman's formula, but have added to its design. If the Russians and the Americans have developed an antidote since the last time they've encountered this biological agent it shall be ineffective."

"Excellent. Well done, Rage." Zin nodded approvingly.

"Doctor Van Brandt has already used the sample we provided to him earlier on the initial test run. When Mister Temple returns he must deliver the new sample to Van Brandt as well."

Zin nodded. He stroked his chin, deep in thought. "Yes. Mister Temple needs to be reminded that The Consortium's priorities take precedent over his own lust for revenge."

"You cannot fault him, Doctor Zin. I understand his deep seated hatred for those that have wronged him. I feel it as well. The Book of Rage demands vengeance be served."

"And it shall, Ezekiel. It shall. However, for now, let us continue with the production of our weapon." Zin stated.

Rage bowed his head slightly. "Of course, Doctor Zin."

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Descending the stone steps into the pub's old cellar, Jessie concentrated on keeping her breathing even and controlling her heart rate. She resisted the urge to pull her firearm; she did not want to appear as a potential threat to whoever left the message.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Jessie shivered against the damp, mustiness of the cellar, the temperature a number of degrees cooler than up in the pub.

"Hello?" She called and heard shuffling from the far end of the short hall where a darkened room lie beyond an open threshold.

A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed there was nothing behind her and the only other opening was another unobstructed passageway off to her left, between where she currently stood and the room at the far end.

Tucking her hand beneath her jacket, Jessie's felt the reassuring weight of the HK pistol in her grasp. She didn't draw the weapon just yet, but kept her hand on the grip, ready to react at a moment's notice if needed. Another noise from the far end of the passage pulled her attention back and she moved cautiously forward. As she passed the other doorway she glanced quickly inside, but a bang from her ultimate destination drew her away from the darkened chamber beyond the threshold.

Approaching, she felt her heart pounding in her chest and she wondered if she had made a mistake. Perhaps the note on the coaster was not from her contact, but from an enemy agent that had tracked her to Glasgow and was setting her up. As doubt filtered through her mind, she halted midway between the two rooms; an old man emerged from the darkness.

Jessie tensed, but saw the man had his hands in front of him, palms facing outward for her to see that he carried no weapons. His orangish-brown hair was thinning and he sported a thin mustache with spots of facial hair along his jawline and cheeks. His flushed cheeks and red, bulbous nose indicated that he had spent many a year hitting the bottle, but his eyes were soft.

He was dressed rather plainly in worn out trousers, a white button down shirt, and an old sport coat. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips.

"Woah there, Lassie." The man said in a thick Scottish accent.

"Who are you?" Jessie asked with authority.

"I have information to pass to you, young Bannon." The man replied.

"I asked your name." Jessie said, not confirming her identity to him. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You followed the instructions, yes?" He lowered his hands and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on his trousers.

"I did."

The man nodded, but then shook his head. "You still have much to learn, Lassie."

"What?" Jessie's eyes went wide as she tried to pull her pistol, but was stopped as a strong hand grasped her wrist; another clamped down on her shoulder.

Dropping to her knees and twisting, Jessie broke the hold of whoever was behind her. She hit the cold floor, cocked her leg and lashed out in the general direction of where an average sized man's groin would be if he was standing directly behind her.

Turning at the last moment, her assailant sidestepped the full force of her kick while moving a hand to protect himself, but grunted slightly as her boot grazed his hand.

"What the fuck?" Jessie muttered in astonishment.

"I should have known your old man would have taught you that move." Came the reply. The newcomer reached down to help Jessie to her feet.

Grabbing his outstretched arm, Jessie glowered. "Phil? What is this? What the hell is going on? I watched those men kill you. You should be dead."

Corbin smiled at her and replied, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Jess."

Mouth agape, Jessie glared at him for a moment, then with a quickness lashed out at her mentor, striking him in the chest as he moved to defend himself. "You asshole! What the fuck, Phil? Fuck!"

"It was a test, Jessie." Phil said as he turned and let her fists pummel against his soft sweater that covered his chest and upper arm until she began to lose steam. "I had to see if you were ready to operate on your own in the event that something really did happen to me."

"Fucker!" She shouted, but her anger was replaced with tears. She hit him one last time in the chest, pushing him backwards. "Why would you do that to me?"

"I had to know. Jessie, I told you when we first arrived…"

"I know, expect the unexpected." Jessie grumbled.

Phil shook his head, "No. I told you that I-1 ran training simulations at the farmhouse. That's all it was; a simulation. But we had to make it look real and convince you so we could gauge your reaction."

Breathing heavily, Jessie stared down the I-1 Director before finally going to sit on the pile of crates. She saw the Scotsman eyeing her with sympathy.

Looking at Phil who stayed where he was she asked, "How?"

"The entire scenario was a test. We were firing blanks, my men reacted to the scenario as if they'd been shot. I was wearing blood pouches beneath my shirt that I activated when I hit the floor. Since I had to be right next to you the entire time, we had to make it look real; acting wouldn't have done it."

"They cut your throat."

Another man emerged from the shadowy alcove to the left. Jessie stared at him with astonishment; it was the man from the plane.

"Theatrics, Jess." Phil said and motioned at his Agent. "Velk here used a fake knife that had a blood capsule attached. You were far enough away not to notice."

"Velk. I thought you looked familiar." Jessie mused. "What about my gun? I could have killed someone."

Phil shook his head. "You failed to check your weapon when you grabbed it from your nightstand. Your gun didn't fire because a training round was chambered preventing you from firing. I loaded it myself before I woke you up."

"You son of a bitch." Jessie grumbled.

Phil frowned, but let the insult pass. "Remember, Jessie, you're the one that insisted on coming with me. I didn't force you into this at all." With a sigh, he relaxed and went on, "I was testing you, Jess. From that night to this very moment. One thing you did do well was think on your feet; the gash in Agent Velk's forehead where you hit him with the pistol is testament to that."

Velk grumbled and removed his Bengals hat for the first time. Just below his hairline was a long horizontal cut. The wound wasn't deep and had already begun to scab over, but it was surrounded by bruises. Now Jessie knew why he wore his hat so low when he'd engaged her in conversation on the plane; to conceal both his real identity and the wound Jessie had inflicted upon him.

"I cried for you." She mumbled, turning her attention back to her godfather.

Moving next to her, Phil sat down and put an arm around her shoulders. At first she tried to pull away, but he prevented her from doing so until he felt the tension melt away from her body. "I'm sorry I had to trick you, Jessie. Believe me, it's not how we usually do things, but in this circumstance anything less would not have told me if you were ready."

"So am I ready?" She finally asked after composing herself.

Rubbing her arm, he replied. "You are, more so than you realize. Sure you made a few mistakes along the way, but it happens. Even a Bannon messes up from time to time."

"Tell me what I did wrong." Jessie stated with a curt laugh.

"We'll go over that later."

The Scotsman handed Velk an envelope. "Good luck, Lassie." He said as he tipped his head at Jess and departed up the stairs.

Velk finally spoke, "I'll be heading out as well, boss."

Phil nodded at his man.

"Sorry about your head, Agent Velk." Jessie stated, trying to smile, but was unable to do so.

Velk waved a hand, "Its fine, kiddo. Hell, everyone tells me I have a hard head, so no harm no foul, right?"

Jessie nodded. Velk handed the envelope to Phil. "I'll let you know when I get to Germany."

"Thanks, Matt."

"Good luck, both of you." Velk stated then headed up the stairs after the Scotsman.

"What's that?" She asked once they were alone, pointing at the envelope.

"The information you came here for. We need to head back to your hotel and go over the next leg. Its real now, Jessie. Seriously, no more training. The moment we walk out of this pub, the bullets are real."

Jessie nodded as she stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. "What's next?"

Phil patted the envelope in his palm before tucking into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. "We'll review this at the hotel. Tomorrow we'll be heading to The Hague."

"For what?"

"To meet the real contact." Phil stated and motioned for Jessie to head up the stairs.

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 **To Be Continued...**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 **Author's Notes: ForeverWells, thank you so much for your input. I believe it has really improved this chapter and I hope you approve. And as always, thank you for your translation help!**

 **GoddessEvie, as always, thank you for your support and constant feedback. Again, so much of this story has evolved because of your suggestions. I hope you continue to enjoy.**

 **To the rest of my readers, please continue to enjoy. This story has been amazingly fun to write and see develop into so much more than when I first started developing it.**

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"So who is this contact we're going to talk to?" Jessie asked.

The flight from Glasgow to The Hague had been uneventful and Jessie had spent most of it catching up on her sleep. Exhaustion and stress, combined with jetlag had taken their tolls on the young redhead and she'd fallen asleep almost immediately.

Now, seated next to Phil in the backseat of a Government town car, she was alert and itching to get back in action.

Phil handed her the dossier of the man they were traveling to see. Studying the documents, she frowned visibly. "Why this man?"

"Because he's connected." Phil responded. "We were finally able to arrest him thanks to your dad and Doctor Quest, but he still knows people."

"You think he knows where The Consortium is located? Where Jonny and my dad are located?"

"I'm hopeful." Phil sighed. "Just let me do the talking, okay?"

The town car turned off the road and into the parking lot of their destination. Jessie peered out the window at the two rising guard towers and large wooden door that marked the entrance to the International Criminal Courts detention center. She saw the buildings behind the light brown brick wall, the ancient penitentiary housing some of the worst international criminals and terrorists convicted and sentenced by the ICC.

The town car was waved through the gates and came to stop in front of the administration building. Phil stepped out and Jessie slid over and out the same door. A brisk wind whipped through the interior grounds of the prison.

Following behind Phil, Jessie walked through the doors of the administration building. An older man, bald except for some hair along the edges of his scalp was waiting for them immediately inside the doorway.

Extending his hand, the man greeted Phil with a curt nod and a forlorn look. "Who is the girl?" He asked, dispensing with any pleasantries.

"A new colleague." Phil answered.

The administrator snorted and waved for them to follow. "Are you armed?"

"Yes." Phil replied.

"Please leave your weapons at the appropriate checkpoint."

"I know the drill, Warden. This isn't my first visit here, you know."

"I know, Director Corbin. But I must state the rules. Formalities." The man shrugged.

"Of course." Phil answered. Stepping up to the counter, he signed both himself and Jessie in and indicated for her to leave her weapon with the officer behind the desk. He did the same.

Once all was in order, they followed the Warden into the building.

Jessie had never seen the inside of a prison. The utilitarian walls and stark passageways were in direct contrast to the magnificent look of the exterior of the building.

Passing through a number of checkpoints, they arrived at the wing that held the interrogation rooms.

"Does he know that it is me he will be talking to?" Phil asked when they stopped in front of a two-way mirror; the room beyond was empty.

"He does."

"Did he say anything?"

"No." The Warden's reply was direct.

"Very well."

"Take as long as you need, Director. Our guards will remain in the room with you and will inform me once your interview is complete."

"Thank you, Warden." Phil nodded.

After the Warden departed, Phil and Jessie stepped into the room. Taking a seat at the single table, Jessie felt a nervous jitter as they waited.

"You okay?" Phil asked when he saw her reaction.

"Yeah," Jessie nodded slowly. "This room kind of reminds me of…you know."

"If you want to wait outside…"

"No, I'll be okay." She cut in before he could continue; she heard her own dad's fatherly concern in Phil's voice and while she appreciated it, she had no intention of backing down now. She'd come too far.

Phil nodded. A sharp buzzer filtered into the room and the door on the opposite the one they had entered opened.

An older man, wearing a white jumpsuit was escorted inside, flanked by two guards. He had a stern look on his face and his thick blonde hair was full and pushed back on his head. He scowled when he saw Phil, but he made no attempt to resist being led inside. His hands and feet were shackled and Jessie could tell that while he was older, probably in his late fifties, he was of formidable appearance and still in decent shape. Jessie was thankful for the shackles.

The prisoner took a seat and the guards stepped back, flanking the door.

"I never thought I would see you." The man growled. "You appear to be an extremely difficult man to kill, Mister Corbin."

"You're looking well, Colonel." Phil replied, giving the man a bit of a boost by using his former rank.

Inclining his head at Jessie, the prisoner asked, "Who is the girl?"

"You know who she is," Phil replied, but looking at Jessie he added, "but for her benefit, Jessie, meet Nikolai Yasimov, former Colonel in the Soviet Army and right hand man to the international criminal, General Vostok."

Jessie kept her face neutral, but gave the Colonel a nod.

"You must be happy that you finally got me to The Hague, Mister Corbin." Nikolai replied.

"You're arrival here was delayed by a number of years and you killed many innocent people between our first meeting and your final capture, but better late than never, I suppose."

"What do you want? You know I will never give you Vostok." Nikolai stated.

"I'm not interested in Vostok." Phil replied.

Nikolai smiled, "Of course not. You are interested in The Consortium."

"What do you know of The Consortium?" Phil asked.

Nikolai stared at Jessie, "I know they have Miss Bannon's father and boyfriend."

"Where are they?" Jessie spat.

"That I do not know." Nikolai replied.

"Why should I believe that?" Jessie asked, her face turning into a scowl.

Nikolai laughed a little. To Phil he said, "You let little girls run your interrogations for you now? You're losing your touch."

"It's not like that." Phil stated. "You know what we want. We want to know where The Consortium's headquarters is located."

"I said I do not know."

"What do _you_ want, Colonel?" Phil asked, changing the course of the discussion.

Yasimov leaned back. His eyes narrowed as he studied the I-1 Director. "I want out of this prison."

"You'll never see freedom again, you know that."

"No, but perhaps I can live out my days in a place that is nicer than here…and avoid the death penalty."

"I don't have that kind of pull, Nikolai."

Sneering, Yasimov grunted. "I do not believe that for one second, American. You have pull with the United Nations or at least with people that do have that kind of power."

Phil sighed, "Perhaps, but you have to give me something. You don't get out of the ICC's detention center without giving me a tangible lead, Nikolai. You know how this game works."

"Yes, a game we have been playing for many years, comrade."

"Let's not start that again." Phil rolled his eyes.

Nikolai appeared to be weighing his options. Jessie studied the Russian's mannerisms, how he drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze moving between her and Corbin. Finally, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I am an old man, but I do hear things."

"Tell me." Phil pushed.

"There is a man that you must speak with. He works for The Consortium and he can lead you to the ones you are looking for."

"Who is this man and where can we find him?" Jessie asked before Phil could intervene.

"His name is Wilhelm Rubenstein. He is in Nuremburg. You can find him at the Haus des Kaisers."

Jessie continued, surprised Phil was letting her, but going with it anyways, "What can this Rubenstein tell us? If you're leading us on a wild goose chase…"

Nikolai's laugh cut her off. Looking at Phil, he pointed at Jessie, "You've trained this one well, comrade. She is just like her father."

"Answer her question." Phil stated, his face remaining devoid of any emotional reaction to the Russian.

"Rubenstein works for a man in The Consortium that you will want to talk with, Mister Corbin. A man they call The Viper."

Nikolai grinned, the name finally broke through Corbin's statue like façade. "Who is he?" Phil growled.

Inclining his head, Yasimov clicked his tongue. "For that I need your guarantee."

"I'll see what I can do for you, Colonel." Phil answered immediately. He ignored the look Jessie shot him. "I might not be able to get you out of here, but I can definitely see that your death sentence is commuted."

Yasimov pursed his lips, taking in Phil's words. Finally, he nodded, "Now I believe you, Mister Corbin. I know that you, of all people, have power in these types of negotiations. You did it for Yuri Delic and now you will do it for me."

"Only if you get to the point and tell me who The Viper really is." Phil leered at his former adversary.

A sly smile came across Yasimov's face. "Comrade, you already know The Viper."

"I'm losing my patience, Yasimov." Phil shot back. Jessie felt Corbin's tension, she saw his fingers clench as he spoke. "Give me a name or else I take back any promise to help you and you can rot in here until they take you to the execution chamber."

"He is one of you, Mister Corbin." Nikolai replied, his smile gone.

"I already know he's American." Phil remarked.

Shaking his head, Nikolai frowned, "You misunderstand me. Yes, he is American, but when I say he is one of you, I mean he is Intelligence One."

Jessie heard Phil inhale. Looking at him, she saw his face darken, his eyes staring down Yasimov. If Jessie didn't know better, she'd think Phil would leap across the table and strangle the Russian prisoner.

"You better watch yourself, Nikolai." Phil growled, "You think this is funny? Accusing one of my Agents of being a traitor?"

Nikolai shook his head again. "No, I am not being funny, Mister Corbin. The Viper was once a member of your organization, but no longer. You left him to die and now he is seeking his revenge against Race Bannon, Intelligence One and Doctor Quest."

"Who is he?" Phil slammed his palm on the table.

"A man not unlike you and Race Bannon. A man that seems unwilling to die. The Viper is your former friend and colleague Gregory Temple."

Phil felt like he was punched in the gut. "Impossible."

"Who is Gregory Temple?" Jessie whispered.

Phil stood, "You better not be fucking with me, Yasimov. If you are, the deal is off."

"Why would I do that, comrade? I wish to avoid the needle and you want to save Bannon and young Jonny Quest. Temple has them both and if you do not find Rubenstein, Temple will eventually kill them…if he hasn't done so already."

Jessie watched Phil place his hands on his head, turning in disbelief at what the prisoner was telling him. Looking back at Yasimov, she saw the old Russian was grinning, enjoying the affect his information had on his enemy. Looking at Yasimov, she remarked, "I don't know who this man is, but if you are telling the truth, you need to tell us where to find him."

"I already told you, that I do not know. But what I do know…"

Phil stopped pacing. Moving to Yasimov's side, he leaned down and grabbed the Russian by the throat, turning the man's head to stare him down. The guards made no move to stop Corbin's actions.

Their faces inches apart, Phil stared into Yasimov's eyes and saw that the Russian was speaking the truth. Growling, he said, "You tell whoever gave you this information to get word to Temple. Tell him that we're coming for him and I swear to God, if it's the last thing I ever do, I'm going to make him pay for his betrayal."

Letting go, Phil pushed Yasimov back. Looking at Jessie, Corbin stated, "Let's go. We're done here."

Jessie was on her feet and moving towards the door. Yasimov coughed and when the pair turned back to look at him he said, "Beware, Mister Corbin, Temple does not take kindly to threats."

"It's not a threat, it's a fucking promise." Phil shot back.

"Then let me share one last thing with you," Yasimov replied, "Temple also makes promises and he has promised to not only destroy you and kill Miss Bannon's father, but he plans to use Jonny Quest against his own father."

"What?" Jessie asked, astonished at the man's words.

Yasimov smiled wickedly. "Temple is dying. He blames Doctor Quest for his sickness. Temple no longer cares about the goals of The Consortium. He is consumed by his hate and he has trained young Quest better than he ever trained Bannon. He will kill Benton Quest and the weapon he uses will be Jonny."

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Race hung his head. Any type of movement just resulted in shooting pains of protest from his stressed joints and damaged muscles. He wasn't sure how long he sat in the chair this time, but his arms had gone numb from the awkward position they were in with his hands secured behind the back of the chair by the metal handcuffs.

Sweat and blood mixed together and fell to the floor in tiny, bubbly droplets. His mouth hung open, he breathing labored.

Seated across from Race was Temple. He'd brought in a metal chair and placed it directly across from his captive. Race could hear the man's manic grumbles of deep disturbing laughter.

"So, Racer," Temple spoke. "You know what I miss the most about being at I-1?"

Race didn't answer, instead letting Temple ramble on like he seemed to enjoy.

"Huh," Temple scoffed when Race didn't reply. "Man, it's been a long time, but what was her name? Oh…that's right…Estella. Yeah…Estella. Mmmm…yeah, she was fine indeed."

Temple achieved his desired result. Race slowly raised his head. "What?"

Smiling wickedly, Temple lit a cigarette and blew the resulting smoke in Race's face. "Oh, you didn't know? That's right…you married that slut, didn't you?"

"Watch your mouth, Greg." Race said. He tried to sound angry, but he was so weak, his words held no bite.

Temple laughed deeply. "I'm surprised you didn't know, Racer. Hell, the office pools for who she'd fuck in any given week was more fun than the ones we had for the Superbowl."

"You sick bastard, Greg. You're lying."

"Am I?" Temple puffed on his smoke. "Think about it, man. How many dates did you have to take her on before she threw herself at you? Did she blow you on the first date? She did me that way and man was it good."

"Shut up." Race spat.

"You think I'm the only one that tagged that fine piece of tail? No way, my friend. She threw it at all of us. Even your buddy Corbin had his go with her. Never thought he'd betray you, did you? What did you think they were doing on that mission in the Balkans all those months, huh? He fucked your wife, Racer. Multiple times. And to hear him tell it, she really enjoyed it." Greg laughed.

"No! Shut your trap, you fucking liar." Race growled, pushing against his restraints.

"You know," Temple grinned, "If you make it out of this, you should really get a blood test and make sure that raggedy little girl is really your kid. I mean, the odds aren't really in your favor."

"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch." Race shouted. The veins in his neck flared, a rush of emotion and rage jolting him to life.

Greg flinched backwards. Dropping his smoke and stubbing it out under the heel of his boot, he looked at his goons, "There's that fighting spirit. You see how it's done, boys? You can beat a man half to death and he'll never beg. But tell him that his wife is a whore and his kid a fuckin' bastard and he'll defend their worthless honor to the bitter end."

Standing, Temple sauntered over and slapped Race a couple times on the cheek. Race snarled. Greg pulled the stun gun from his belt. Jamming it into Race's chest, Temple laughed as Race shook from the surge of volts that coursed through his body.

"Beg, Racer. I want to hear you say it." Temple zapped Race again.

"Fuck you." Race spat, his teeth jarring from the volts running through his body.

"I can do this all day and all night." Temple replied. Taking a step back he set the stun gun down on his chair and knelt in front of Race. "Your wife is nothing but a whore. You daughter a little bitch."

Race scowled and spat a wad of blood in Temple's face. Greg wiped at his cheek, then looked at his hand, Race's disrespectful gesture seeming to amuse the older man. Looking back at his onetime friend, Greg smiled, "At least you still have a bit of fight in you. But not for long, buddy."

Standing, Temple grabbed a fistful of Race's hair, raising the man's head to him, then hit him in the face with his other fist. The resulting crack vibrated off the walls. "Ask me to stop and I'll stop."

"Never." Race breathed.

Temple shook his head then hit Race one more time before letting him go. Pacing, Greg acted as if he was deep in thought. After a few steps, he stopped in front of Race again. "You know, Racer, I just had an idea. I am going to kill you eventually, but perhaps I should show you more about that filthy wife of yours before I do."

"You're a fucking lunatic." Race grumbled, his head low again.

Temple cupped his chin in his hand as if in thought. "What do I have to do to prove it to you? Bring her here so you can watch as she does whatever I ask of her? I've already had my way with that other skank you hang out with. But she'll throw it at any man that steps in her path just to get her way. How's that feel, Racer? Knowing Jade sold you out to me?"

Race remained quiet; he didn't want to believe anything Temple was saying.

Greg laughed, "That's right. You can't say anything, but you're realizing that what I'm telling you is true. Every person you ever cared about, ever loved, has sold you out."

"You're the sellout, Greg." Race growled.

"Hardly, Bannon. I already told you I did what I did to prove a point."

"And it's going to be your undoing. All of this…you'll never get away with it." Race countered.

Temple shook his head. "Oh I have no intention of _'getting away with it'_. All I want is to see each and every one of you dead as payment for what you did to me. If that means I get to take a few extras out along the way then all the more fun for me. I want every person to know it was me that did them in. That put the bullet between their eyes."

"I'm going to enjoy killing you, Greg." Race sneered. "I'm not like you, I don't enjoy killing, but in this case, I'm going to make an exception."

"I'd like to see you try, Racer." Greg retorted as he placed his hands on his hips and started Race down.

"Uncuff me and I'll do it right now." Race jerked against his restraints again, not caring about the pain it was causing him.

Temple tsked and waved a finger at Race. "I don't think so, Bannon."

"Coward." Race jeered.

Stepping forward, Temple lashed out, striking Race multiple times in the head and chest. Breathing heavily, he stepped back and watched Race slacken from the beating, blood pouring freely from his wounds.

"Next time you call me a coward, I'll take it personal." Temple spat. "For now, I have some other matters to attend to, namely another session with our lovely Jade."

Spinning on his heel, Temple departed, his guards falling in step behind him. The cell door slammed shut and the lights went out.

"Get back here, Temple." Race yelled in the dark. "Get back here, you worthless piece of shit."

No one responded. Puffing heavy breaths through his nose, Race was tense, staring at the door, but eventually he hung his head and closed his eyes. He couldn't imagine that anything Temple said was true, but the inkling of doubt remained. Neither Estella nor Jade would ever betray him; ever cheat on him. Or would they?

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Jonny wandered up to Anaya and tapped her on the shoulder. Turning, the daughter of Zin gave him a funny look then asked, "What is it, Jonny?"

"Any word from Greg?" Jonny asked.

It was late the following morning. After he'd blown off his frustrations at the range, his exhaustion had finally taken over. He'd returned to his room and slept through most of the morning, it was now almost lunchtime and one thing Jonny found himself being grateful for was that everyone seemed to leave him the hell alone.

Anaya glanced nervously towards her father, but the elder Zin was deep in conversation with Rage. They didn't even notice the young Quest boy when he'd entered the operations center.

Gesturing for Jonny to follow, Anaya led him to the far corner of the room. "I haven't heard from Greg."

Jonny huffed. "When the hell is he coming back?"

"I don't know, Jonny. I was hoping he'd have returned already."

"You don't think anything happened to him, do you?" He asked worriedly.

Anaya smiled. Jonny's affection for Temple appeared to match her own. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she replied, "I don't think so, Jonny. We both know that Temple can take care of himself."

Nodding, Jonny accepted her answer. "He'll come back though, right? He has to come back."

"He will. He has to come back to get you before the next mission."

"What is that mission? Please, Anaya, tell me. I'm going stir crazy here."

Anaya glanced over her shoulder briefly then back at Jonny, "I don't have the details, but I think you have to go back to see Van Brandt and deliver him the samples that Rage has created."

"What are they?"

"That I don't know, Jonny. Honestly, but Van Brandt needs them." She paused, debating what more to say, but then lowered her voice. "But when you do go, please make sure Greg talks to Temple about his medication. I'm afraid that he's been putting it off because he's so wrapped up in all of this other stuff. He needs that medication."

"I'll make sure he gets it. I don't want anything to happen to him either, Anaya." Jonny nodded.

"Thanks, Jonny. And thank you for caring about him too."

Jonny smiled. He was warming up the Zin twin; their mutual affection for Greg creating a bond between the former enemies that Jonny found both enlightening and refreshing. At least he wasn't alone again.

"I better get back to work." Anaya stated. "Why don't we meet for dinner later?"

"Okay." He agreed. Anaya gave him one last smile then returned to her father's side, leaving Jonny to stand in the corner.

Eventually he left the operations center. He went back to his room to take his mid-day drink and while he was there, he also partook in some of the drugs he still had from the other night.

His head was in the clouds as he wandered the halls of the medieval fortress. Not having a plan, he found himself heading towards the common rooms. Entering the recreational area, he noticed a few of the younger members glance at him warily, pausing in the middle of their games or conversations. After a few seconds they returned to what they were doing.

Taking a seat on one of the vacant couches, Jonny closed his eyes. His entire body tingled from the drugs; it was a great feeling. He heard voices. Opening his eyes, he saw the girls from the other night looking at him, but quickly turn away when he glanced in their direction. Frowning, he shook his head and stood. He needed some fresh air.

About to leave, he caught a glimpse of red from the corner of his eye.

 _Jessie?_

He turned, but it wasn't Jessie. It was another girl. Her hair was a darker shade of red than his former girlfriend's, but it was just as long and her body just as enticing. Their eyes met and Jonny found himself smiling. He watched the girl bite the tip of her finger suggestively then wink, obviously not shy or concerned that she'd been caught staring.

' _Nice.'_ He thought to himself. ' _Real nice. I'll have to look her up later.'_

With that, he exited the common room and found his way out into the bright afternoon sun.

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"There you are, Estella." Benton sighed with relief. He hadn't heard the woman return, but she was seated at the island of the kitchen, scribbling in her day planner.

"Benton, oh." Estella breathed, raising her head to look at the scientist. She shut the day planner before Benton could see what was in it. "I'm sorry, I thought you were in the lab."

"I was. Hadji and I are heading to D.C. to meet with Agent Dugger. We need to run some tests. Would you like to go? The Agents on security detail will remain here regardless." Benton made his way to the coffee pot and began making a fresh batch. Even though it was afternoon, he needed a little caffeine to help him push on.

"Actually, Benton, I think I'll be heading out as well for a while."

Benton paused and set the coffee grounds down. Studying the woman, he asked, "What do you mean?"

With a sigh, Estella stated her feelings. "Benton, you have no idea how much I appreciate you taking me in during all of this, but I can tell that I've been more of a burden than a help."

"That's absolutely not true, Estella."

"Isn't it? Benton, you're involved in your work. You're determined to get Jonny back safely, just as everyone else is. And everyone else has a role in getting Jonny back. I don't. There's nothing that I can help with at the moment. I know Jessie is with Phil and that she is safe and as much as I would rather she be here, I know she won't come back without Jonny."

"Where do you plan to go?" Benton asked, seeing that Estella had already made her decision and nothing he could say would make her change her mind. Maybe a short vacation, away from the stress and the I-1 Agents that roamed the grounds would actually help her clear her head.

Looking down, Estella fidgeted with her hands. Finally, she sighed and looked back up at Benton. "Well, I met someone the other day."

Benton smiled, "Estella, that's wonderful news."

"Really?" Estella was a little surprised at his reaction.

Nodding, Benton went to her and took her hands in his. "Of course it is. Estella, even with all this madness, we have to be able to continue on with our lives. If an opportunity presents itself and it makes you happy, then of course I support you. And you know that Jessie and even Race will as well. They just want you to be happy, Estella. That's all."

Estella felt herself choking up at Benton's kind words. Even with everything going on, he was still concerned about her happiness. Benton was a loving individual and his thoughtful and heartfelt statement made her feel more confident and alleviated some of her apprehensions about leaving with Kreed.

"Thank you, Benton." She managed to stammer without crying.

"Where will you be heading?"

"Europe." Estella beamed.

"You let me know when you get there, okay?"

"I will and thank you, Benton. Thank you for understanding."

Benton wrapped her up in a tight embrace. His strong arms gave her the support she needed at the moment. "Of course, Estella. Of course."

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Feeling a hand gently shaking her, Karla opened her eyes. Blinking, she hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep. Her body was sore from the uncomfortable waiting room chair and her arm tingled from propping her head up in her hand for so long.

"Wha…" She mumbled.

"Hey there." Matt Velk smiled at the woman. Taking a seat, he looked at his colleague, "How is he?"

"Recovering from surgery." Karla yawned. "I must have fallen asleep."

"I spoke to the attending nurse before coming to find you. She said we can see him for a few minutes." Velk smiled.

Karla liked Agent Velk. Just like Dugger and Bannon, he carried himself in a professional, yet intimidating manner, but just like the other two men, he was pretty much a big teddy bear.

"Yes, let's go see him." Shaking off the last of her sleep, Karla stood and steadied herself again Matt's arm. She noticed he carried a bag in his other hand.

The two Agents made their way to Roberts' private room. Knocking gently, they stepped inside and saw that Roberts was awake, but still heavily medicated.

Moving to the bed, Karla took Terry's hand in hers and smiled. "How are you feeling, TerBear?"

"Hey you," Roberts smiled. His face was heavily bandaged and his injured arm was still propped up in a sling, but he was so drugged up it appeared he wasn't feeling any pain. "muñeca."

Karla smiled and kissed him gently on the forehead.

Matt came over to look at his friend. He tried not to frown at Terry's injuries. "Hey, partner."

Dropping Karla's hand, Terry chuckled and pointed at Velk's busted forehead. "What happened to you?"

"A redhead with a gun." Velk smirked. He held up the gift bag, "The guys and gals back Headquarters pooled some money together and got you a get-well gift."

"Sweet." Roberts grinned.

Velk set the bag on Terry's lap and helped him open it since Roberts only had one good hand at the moment. Inside the bag was a get-well card that Karla assisted Terry with opening. Reading it he smiled and set it down. Digging further in the bag he pulled out a stuffed animal horse, complete with saddle, bridle, and fluffy mane.

"A cowboy needs his horse." Matt smiled.

Karla smiled, choking up a little at the gesture.

Roberts held the little toy in his hand, examining it like it was a real animal. Karla and Matt exchanged looks, chalking Terry's silly behavior up to the drugs that were still in his system.

"He's cute," Terry responded. Looking at Velk, he added, "Just like you."

"Hey now." Velk raised his hands. "I'm spoken for and so are you, tough guy!"

"That's right." Karla stated playfully.

"Tough guy." Terry chuckled, but winced from a shot of pain. "Where's the other tough guy?"

Velk assumed Roberts meant the other Agents. "Bannon is still MIA and Phil is with Jessie. Dug went back to D.C. to meet with Doctor Quest."

Roberts shook his head, "Not them. The tough guy that did this to my face."

Velk's brow furrowed. "Do you remember anything about him?"

Terry appeared to be thinking. Finally he whispered, "Murcielago."

"What?" Karla asked, confused.

Velk looked across the bed at Altine. "What did he say?"

"He said bat." Karla answered. "Like the animal."

"A man like a bat? Like Batman?" Velk muttered. "I think the drugs are getting to your head, my man."

Roberts tried to shake his head. "No, not Batman. He's not real. I mean like a bat. A bat with a human skull for a face."

Karla frowned. "Terry, you're not making sense." Looking at Velk, she added, "We should let him get his rest."

Velk didn't seem to hear her. He was studying Roberts with a look akin shock. "What do you mean a skull for a face?"

"His face was like a skull and he wore a hat and had wings like a bat."

"Shit." Velk grumbled. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his phone.

"What is it?" Karla asked. "Who is he talking about?"

Velk gave her a pleading look as he placed a call. "I need to tell Phil."

"What? What is going on?"

Velk grumbled and hung up the phone, no answer from the other end. Dialing a new number he called Agent Dugger. When the phone call connected, Velk spoke immediately into the speaker phone, "Dug, its Matt. Can you get in touch with Corbin?"

"I'll try. Why? What's going on? Is Terry alright?"

"He's okay, still loopy from the surgery. But you need to get a message to Phil. I tried calling him but he didn't answer. He's probably in transit and doesn't have signal."

"What is going on?" Karla demanded.

Roberts had gone back to playing with the stuffed horse.

"Dug, listen to me. You have to get a message to Phil. I think I know who attacked Roberts."

"Who?" Both Dugger and Karla asked at the same time.

"Phil told me about this guy after talking with Jessie at the Quest Compound. His name is Ezekiel Rage."

"Can't be. Rage is dead." Dugger replied.

"I don't think so." Velk answered. "And here's the thing, Pete. Rage isn't just Rage, man. It's Grimm."

A pause, then Dugger breathed. "What?"

"Ezekiel Rage is Argus Grimm."

"Are you sure?" Dugger asked.

"I don't know, never met the guy, but Phil was convinced of it. But, like you, he believes Rage is dead."

"If Rage is Grimm, then he's going to wish he was dead, because I'll kill that fucking traitor myself if I get my hands on him." Dugger growled, even thru the phone Karla heard the menace in the man's voice.

"Not if I get to him first." Karla grumbled.

"Warn Phil that Grimm is alive. Karla and I will stay with Roberts." Velk said.

"Don't let anyone you don't know near him, Matt."

"Got it, brother." Velk nodded even though Dugger couldn't see him. "Let me know once you talk to Corbin."

"Will do." Dugger stated then ended the call.

"Who is this Rage guy? Or Grimm or whatever the hell his name is?" Karla asked, her eyes looking to her injured boyfriend with grave concern.

"Terry's lucky to be alive, Karla. Rage is an evil man and if he finds out that he didn't kill Terry he'll come back to finish the job. But we're not going to let that happen."

"Damn right." Karla declared.

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As the train sped along the rails, Jessie watched the darkened countryside zip by as Phil removed his jacket and rummaged through his bag. Turning away from the window, she watched the man that only days before had tricked her into believing he was dead. Ever since they'd left the ICC detention center, Phil was reserved, only speaking to her when it was necessary. He purchased the train tickets and now they shared a sleeper car, traveling through the night in order to reach Nuremburg.

Watching him closely, she knew he was distraught. He'd learned that a man that he'd thought was dead, a man that had once been his friend, was in fact alive and working for an organization unlike any they'd face to date.

He sat down on the edge of the car's small bed and began wiping down his handgun. He didn't look at Jessie; he was lost in his own thoughts.

Uncomfortable with the silence, Jessie finally spoke. "So, who is this Greg Temple character?"

Phil's eyes went to Jessie for a moment before returning to his task. Wiping down the weapon, he sighed and spoke, "Greg Temple used to work for I-1. He was your dad's partner when Race was a rookie. We thought he died during an operation in Greenland, but he resurfaced years later at one of our training facilities."

"I recall Jonny telling me about that. Something about cloaking technology."

Phil nodded. "Greg used the cloaking mask to disguise himself as me to lure Race to the island. He forced Race and Jonny to run the obstacle course he'd altered into some sick death race. He then acted like one of Race's enemies, a criminal named Lucius Kreed. In the end, your father exposed Temple, but the island exploded and we thought Greg was really dead that time, but it appears he survived."

"Why does he hate my dad so much?"

"I have no idea, Jess. Like I said, we thought he was dead." Phil replied.

"So Temple is behind The Consortium?"

"It would appear that way," Phil answered. Straightening his back, he finally looked over at Jessie. "But..."

"But what?" Jessie encouraged.

Phil scratched the side of his face. "I just don't see Temple being able to organize and run such an in-depth and far reaching entity like The Consortium. I don't think it's just him that's behind all of this. There has to be more."

"What makes you say that?"

"I received a report from the U.N. a few weeks back about a biological outbreak in the Horn of Africa. I could be wrong, but it reminded me of something that happened years ago and it doesn't feel like Greg's style. Greg may have turned into a sadistic madman, but I can't see him launching biological attacks against an innocent populace. Hell, it might not even be related."

"But your gut says otherwise." Jessie smirked.

"Yeah."

"And you I-1 Agents trust your gut. My dad is the same way."

"Right." The mention of Race seemed to jar something in Phil. Holstering his weapon, he looked at the daughter of his best friend. "Jess, this is turning into something bigger than I first anticipated. We have to work on the assumption that when we find both your dad and Jonny, they may be suffering far worse than we assumed. We'll have to tread lightly."

Jessie nodded. A quiet awkwardness engulfed the sleeping car once again. Phil clasped his hand behind his neck and hung his head, staring at the floor while Jessie pondered the possibilities of what they were truly up against.

Thinking back to her training, she decided to help alleviate some of Phil's tension by talking about how she'd performed up to this point.

"You know, Phil," Jessie started. "Before we go any further I need to say this. I understand what you did was necessary, but it was still kind of an asshole thing to do to me. But, I'm over it now and I'm ready to learn from any mistakes I made not only that morning, but during the entire week."

Giving her a look, Phil replied kindly. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you, Jess. It wasn't an easy decision, but it was one I had to make. Agent Blake didn't want me to go through with it, not after all you had been through and definitely not after you told me what happened to you. So, again, I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Jessie lips curled into a little smile. "Apology accepted. Let's move on. You promised to tell me what I did wrong during your test."

He seemed relieved for the change of subject. "Your first mistake, like I already told you was not checking your weapon. If you had done that you'd have seen the blockage and I would have called off the simulation. But you didn't, you assumed it was as you left it."

"I had no reason to think otherwise." Jessie countered.

"You never assume." Phil remarked. "You always verify. But one thing you will learn over time is the feel of your weapon. I can pick up my handgun and tell you exactly how many rounds are loaded simply by the weight. It's a skill you'll develop over time."

Jessie nodded. "What else?"

"The rest of the scenario at the farmhouse played out fairly well. You followed my instructions and moved accordingly. You listened, observed and reacted appropriately in order to neutralize the threats. If I had to gig you for something, I would say your error was simply following me and what I did. You should have recognized that we needed to clear the house before moving outside."

"I thought you were in charge."

"A good leader is always open to suggestions, even on the spot ones in life and death situations. If you had stopped me from going to the door, we would have discovered Velk and the others beforehand since they were lying in wait in the kitchen."

Jessie nodded her understanding, so he continued. "Like I already told you before, you did do well thinking on your feet. Throwing your weapon at Velk gave you enough time to react and either fight or flee. After I was shot, you should have gone for my weapon. Since you didn't, my attacker acted as if I had shot him and his hesitation helped you determine your next move, whether you realized it or not. Unarmed, you grabbed your laptop, which you knew you'd need, and you fled, following my instructions. No one pursued you because as soon you left the property that part of the scenario was over."

"Okay." Jessie nodded, soaking in his feedback.

"Next you went to the McDonalds and even in your distraught state you knew you had to keep moving."

"Wait," Jessie held up a hand. "How did you know where I'd go?"

"I didn't." Phil answered. "The car was equipped with a tracking device. After you left, Elise, my men and I sat in the kitchen drinking coffee, listening to Matt grumble about his busted open forehead, and monitoring your progress. Once you were at the restaurant, we got cleaned up and Velk and I headed to the airport."

"You are an asshole." Jessie remarked, but in a lighthearted manner.

Phil laughed, "Bannons, I swear. Anyways, we kept tabs on you all the way to Cincinnati and through Scotland. I took a risk by having Velk sit next to you, but I recalled that you'd only met him once at Doctor Quest's house and it was dark outside when you spoke to us. He sat next to you, effectively blocking you in, in case there were any threats on the plane that we didn't know about. He was there to protect you."

"Where were you? I didn't see you at all." Jessie stated.

"I stayed out of your sight, but I was there. I boarded the plane after you and Velk and sat in first class. I deplaned prior to you as well."

Jessie grumbled a laugh, "No wonder I didn't get a first class ticket."

Phil smirked, "Anyways, the last mistake you made was letting me sneak up behind you in the cellar."

"Where were you? In that side room?"

He nodded, "I was behind a pallet of boxes. I saw you look in and I thought you'd find me, but when Robbie made that noise to distract you, you took the bait."

"What was I supposed to do? I was alone." Jessie confessed.

"You could have retreated back up the stairs, thus abandoning the mission long enough to develop a new plan of action."

"Not an option as I was working on a tight timetable." Jessie declared.

"Right," Phil nodded. "What you should have done was kept both rooms in your sight the entire time, moved with your back to the interior wall. The moment you left my room behind without clearing it, I knew I had you."

Jessie sighed and shook her head. "I fucked up."

"It was a test, Jessie. That's how we learn from our mistakes."

"I could have been killed. I bet my dad never did anything so stupid."

Phil threw his head back and laughed. "Jess, we all fuck up. Your dad is no different. In fact, when this is all over you should ask him about the first time he met Jade."

"That hussy," Jessie crossed her arms and huffed. "What did she do to him?"

"She fucked him up is what she did." Phil laughed.

"He told us that story, but I don't remember that part." Jessie replied.

"Ask him for the uncensored version of our mission in Prague." Phil chuckled.

Jessie eyed him for a moment, then smiled. "What about you?"

"Me? I've fucked up more times than I can count." Phil replied. "For example, you remember how I said I owed my life to your dad?"

She nodded.

Turning his head, Phil ran his finger along his hairline, pointing at a faint but long scar she never noticed before. "Without divulging too many details, let's just say that a particularly nasty individual got the upper hand on me when I was on a solo mission years ago. Your old man found out where I was being held and came after me; we don't leave anyone behind. However, before he got there, my 'host' gave me this scar as a reminder of my time at his villa…brass knuckles can leave gashes as you can see."

"You got beat with brass knuckles?" Jessie asked wide eyed.

"Yep," Phil smirked. "You ever see a head wound bleed? I swear, I thought I was going to bleed to death. He also broke three bones on the side of my face and my nose." Joking he added, "It's amazing I've retained my stunningly good looks. But, I still get really horrendous headaches from time to time because of it and that was over a decade ago. Eventually the goon would have killed me, but your dad got there before he decided I was no longer of value."

"Damn." Jessie breathed.

"So like I said, Jessie, we all fuck up. Learn from your mistakes and move on." Stretching, Phil stood and changed the subject. "It's a long journey to Nuremburg. We should get some rest, but sleep in shifts."

"You go ahead, I'm not all that tired right now." Jessie responded. "I'll wake you up in a few hours."

"You shouldn't have to, but if you need to leave, you wake me up before doing so. Understood?" He asked as he pulled his shirt off over his head and stepped into the small bathroom compartment. Jessie didn't say anything, but she saw his other scars, one of his chest and two on his back; scars caused by her mother's attempt to kill him. Jessie shook her head, that incident seemed like a lifetime ago.

A few minutes later he emerged, put on a clean shirt and maneuvered his way into the barely big enough bottom bed. Jessie watched as he removed his weapon and holster and set it in a position on the mattress where only he could access it. Within minutes he was sound asleep.

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"Hey, Ace." Jonny placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder. For most of the day, he'd done nothing but wander around, get high, and think about the redhead he'd seen earlier. He was high now and the drugs gave him the jolt he desired. If Jonny could have his way, he'd stay high all the time; it made him feel invincible.

Turning, she smiled when she saw the hungry look in his eyes. "Hey, yourself."

He heard the other girls grumble. Looking up at them he smirked, then looked back at the redhead. Speaking loud enough for the others to hear, he asked, "You want to come have a little party with me? Just the two of us?"

"Hell yeah." The girl beamed. "I hear you get the best stuff."

Nodding, he replied, "That I do, babe. Come on, let's go back to my room."

Arm over her shoulder, Jonny led the girl out of the common room. He could feel the glares of the two girls he dissed the night before burning a hole in the back of his head. He didn't care. No one challenged him and no one made a move to stop him. It was at that moment that Jonny realized just how much power he had amongst the younger members of The Consortium. Temple's tutelage may have had something to do with it, but Jonny knew that word about his accomplishments had spread quickly at the castle and it boosted his confidence and his standing to an almost legendary status. From what he'd heard, only Temple had more respect among the younger crowd.

It was a short trip back to his room and the moment he shut the door, the redhead was all over him. Pushing herself against Jonny, she kissed him, jamming her tongue through his lips.

"Slow down, Ace," Jonny grinned once their lips parted. "We've got all night."

"I've fantasied about this ever since I first set eyes on you, Quest." The girl stated.

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a vial of drugs and a baggie of pills he'd gotten from his friend Andrew. "Wanna get a little crazy?"

Nodding, the girl followed Jonny to the couch. He'd barely spread the cocaine on the table before she was leaning down and snorting it up. He grinned and did the same. Next he handed her a pill from the baggie.

"Ecstasy." He stated.

She didn't seem to care what it was; she popped it in her mouth immediately.

Her hands were all over him, pulling his shirt off over his head. She smiled wickedly at his muscled chest, arms, and abs. "Been working out, I see?" She winked. She ran her tongue along his chest, teasing his nipples.

"I have a lot of free time as of late." Jonny chuckled. He slinked his hands through her hair, taking the sight of her in. Her dark red mane made him wild.

Moving back up, she kissed his lips again. "I like your tattoo."

"Thanks." Jonny smiled.

"When will you get your other one?" Her hand working to undo his pants.

"I didn't bring you here to talk about body art." Jonny growled. He pressed his mouth to her neck, sucking and teasing her.

Her hand was down his pants. He groaned as she grasped him.

"What did you bring me here for?" She purred, moving to kneel in front of him.

"Because I want you." He whispered, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "I want you so bad, Jess. So bad."

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Shortly after passing through Cologne Jessie felt her eyelids starting to get heavy. Phil was still asleep, his deep breathing telling Jessie he was more exhausted than he had let on. She moved to the restroom, freshened up and then stepped back into the compartment intent on getting a little sleep before they reached their final destination.

Closing the bathroom door, she heard voices outside their room. Pausing, she strained to listen and placed her ear against the door hoping it would drown out the noise of the rail so she could distinguish the words of the men outside.

"Have you seen these two?" The first voice asked. "A man and girl traveling together. They probably told you they were father and daughter."

Jessie held her breath.

"I am not sure." The second voice replied. To Jessie it sounded like the train manager.

"I believe they are Americans." The first voice spoke with a hint of annoyance.

"I am an old man, I cannot remember every face that comes and goes. Most customers on this rail prefer their privacy." The manager replied.

Jessie pressed harder against the door. It sounded like the manager was stepping away, but a thud and a muffled cry, followed by a wet gurgling sound told a graver tale.

They had to move quickly. Stepping away, Jessie placed a hand on Phil's mouth and shook him awake. His eyes opened immediately. She removed her hand as he checked and secured his weapon. She flashed a number of hand signals at him. With a nod, he moved into the bathroom and partially closed the door. Jessie climbed into the top bunk and pressed herself against the wall, concealing herself from the door. Remembering what Phil told her, she doubled checked her weapon and waited.

The handle of the room's door jiggled, then the door slid open. The assassin was fast, moving into the room, sweeping his suppressed handgun in front of him, scanning what appeared to be an empty car. Eyeing the bathroom, he began to turn just as Phil sprung from his hiding spot. The killer, dressed in a suit and tie, grunted when Phil rammed his shoulder into him, knocking him off balance. An expert in his profession, the man kept a hold of his weapon as Phil twisted and launched his knee into the man's groin.

Sneering, the goon staggered from the blow then swung his elbow out, connecting with the side of Phil's head. Falling to the floor of the cramped compartment, Phil rolled to his back as the assassin stood over him, feet planted on either side of the downed Agent and took a bead on Corbin's head.

Lashing out, Phil kicked the man's knee while at the same time rolling to the side, causing the assailant to stumble as he fired, the bullet smacking with a suppressed whizz into the carpeted floor of the car.

The man grumbled under his breath. Repositioning his feet, he bent down in an effort to grab Phil by the shirt.

"Hey, asshole!" Jessie yelled.

The man paused and looked up just as Jessie leaned out from her hiding spot and fired. Her round smacked into the assassin's arm. His eyes went wide and Jessie tucked her pistol into her waistband, grabbed a bar on the ceiling's luggage rack and swung off of the bunk in a sweeping arc. Her momentum propelled her forward and locking her knees she kicked out, planting both feet firmly into the goon's chest, sending him spiraling out of the door to smack against the interior wall of the train's hull.

With a snarl, he attempted to recover, but Jessie let go of the bar the moment her feet impacted with her target and dropped to the floor in a crouch, straddling Corbin's legs. Ignoring him, Jessie retrieved her firearm, took aim at the threat and without hesitation, fired. Squeezing off three quick shots, the bullets smacked into the man. He dropped to his knees and Jessie fired again, placing a round squarely between the man's eyes, killing him instantly.

Remaining still, Jessie waited, but when no other threats emerged, she determined that only the lone assassin had been sent. "You okay?" She asked, her body able to relax.

"I'm getting too old for this shit." Phil grumbled as he stood. "Nice work, Bannon." He added approvingly while moving past her. He did a quick check on the hall, then stepped out to grab the dead man's pistol.

Handing the weapon to Jess, Phil moved to the next compartment and cautiously opened the door. "Damn." He shook his head as Jessie joined him. Inside was the train manager, his throat shredded by the killer's garrote. "Poor bastard." Phil mumbled. It had been a quick death, but a painful one and Corbin felt sorry for the old man.

"Come on, change of plans, Jess. Put that pistol in your bag. We'll dispose of it later." Phil ordered. He grabbed the dead assassin and pulled him into the compartment with the deceased worker.

"What now?" She stood guard in the doorway. Phil quickly searched the killer's body, discovering a wad of cash and two pictures, one of each of them.

"Whoever sent this asshole knows who we are." Phil said as he pocketed the cash and showed Jessie the photos.

"You think Yasimov sent him?"

"Maybe." He replied. He exited the compartment and shut the door. Jessie watched him manipulate the handle until he successfully jammed the lock. "That will only keep someone out for so long. Gather up our things, we get off in Frankfurt."

"Alright." Jessie nodded. "I assume from there we'll still head to Nuremburg?"

"We'll get a car and drive." He explained. "The Consortium is bigger than we first thought."

"It is and that's why we need stop them at all costs." Jessie remarked while packing her bag hastily.

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Jonny's eyes fluttered, his mind drifting into unconsciousness. His redheaded companion rested next to him. His arm draped over her naked body, his fingers lazily brushing against her breasts; she moaned in her sleep from his touch.

He nuzzled his face in her hair, drinking in the sweet scent of his companion's gorgeous red locks. Moving his hand, Jonny combed his fingers through her hair, enthralled by its softness.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled then breathed, "Jessie, oh, Jessie, you were amazing."

Jessie's smiling face appeared in his mind, the last image he saw before his body gave in and he fell asleep.

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 **To Be Continued...**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

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Jessie remained quiet for most of the drive. It wasn't until they'd left the train and began driving from Frankfurt to Nuremberg that her adrenaline had returned to normal levels and the full enormity of what she'd done on the train had settled into her mind. She hadn't hesitated to squeeze the trigger; she'd killed a man. She'd killed before, but for some reason this felt different. She witnessed the life leave the man's body; she'd looked upon his lifeless form while Corbin dragged him into the other compartment. Even though this was a clear case of self-defense, just like the other times, it bothered her more so now than in the past.

The drive wasn't long and dawn was quickly approaching. "We should find a place to rest for a few hours." Phil suggested, weaving through the traffic that was growing more congested the closer they got to the city. "If Yasimov's information is accurate, the Haus des Kaisers is where we will find this guy."

Using Phil's phone, Jessie did a search for the establishment. "Good plan. It doesn't open till this evening anyways." She read through the restaurant's information.

"That gives us some time. We can find a place to freshen up and get some food. I'll contact the team back at Headquarters and see what they can pull on this Rubenstein character so we'll be better prepared."

"How do you plan to confront him?"

Phil cocked his head and gave her a smile. "What do you think we should do?"

Stroking her chin, Jessie thought through some courses of action. "Well, if this guy is part of The Consortium it's safe to say that we should consider him armed and dangerous. He'll probably have some men protecting him too."

Phil kept his eyes on the road and nodded in agreement. "What else?"

"The problem I see is that someone sent that assassin after us. We have to assume that Rubenstein knows we are coming too. We need to take him by surprise, but this is his turf, not ours and it's just the two of us."

"We'll have to determine ingress and egress points for this restaurant. Park our car accordingly and do our best to prevent him from fleeing. I'll have my guys get us the blueprints for the building."

"They can do that? For a location in Germany?" Jessie asked.

Phil smirked, "Are you really asking me that question?"

A chuckle escaped Jessie's lips. "Good point."

"Look up a hotel that's within walking distance to the Haus des Kaisers." Phil instructed.

Jessie did and within a few moments the phone's navigation had them on the correct course.

"How are you feeling overall?" Phil asked a few minutes later.

Jessie sighed. "I'm…alright."

"What you did was necessary to save both of us, Jess." Phil's voice was soft. "You need to focus on the overall objective."

"He was going to kill us." Jessie hoped by saying it aloud it would alleviate the knot she felt in her stomach whenever she thought about it.

"He was." Phil agreed. "That doesn't mean that it shouldn't bother you. That's what makes you different than him. He was an assassin…you're not."

"Does it ever get easy?" The question came out barely above a whisper.

She heard her mentor sigh heavily. "You want my honest answer?"

"Of course I do." Jessie nodded. He kept his gaze forward, but she could see a flicker in his eyes for a brief second.

"It does." He said. "The act itself, I mean. You get to a point where you don't even think about it. You don't hesitate and you move on to the next target. It's only afterwards, when you're alive and they are not, that it starts to weigh on your mind. But if you remind yourself of why you _had_ to do it and that the other guy's intent was to kill you, it helps."

"Does it?"

He nodded, "Yes. Because you're alive to go back to your loved ones. I told you when this all started that this life isn't for everyone and I meant it. Some people handle it better than others. Here's the thing, Jess, you have to survive in order to be back with Jonny, with the one you love. People are going to try and stop you from that. And they'll try to kill you to prevent that from happening. If there's no other way out, you're going to have to kill them first. That man on the train is not the last man that you may have to kill before this is all over."

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"I want to see Race." Jade demanded the moment Temple entered her cell. He'd left her hands free, showing the woman that he didn't see her as a threat. At the moment, Jade wasn't sure that Temple's assessment of her wasn't spot on. She wanted to bust out, to help Race, but Temple wasn't their average bad guy that was dumb enough to make grandiose mistakes. If he'd left Jade's hands and feet unbound because he felt she wasn't a problem, then he had countermeasures in place to prevent her from doing him and his operation any damage.

"Tough shit." Temple growled. "This isn't about what you want, Jade."

"I'd ask what it is about, but I already know your game, Greg. Why don't you stop dicking around with us? If you want to kill us then kill us; toying with us is beneath even a man like you."

"What do you think you know about me?" Greg sneered.

With a huff, Jade forced herself not to roll her eyes. "I'm not playing this back and forth bullshit with you any longer, Greg. I'm sorry you got sick, but you can't blame that on us."

"Maybe not," Temple nodded while lighting a cigarette, "but I can blame those other people getting sick on you."

A black scowl spread across Jade's beautiful, but tired and dirty, countenance. "Save the drama for someone that cares, Temple. If I had know that The Consortium was my buyer, I never would have sold Arman's formula. And besides, that was years ago. A serum has already been developed to counter the effects."

Temple shook his head, inhaling deeply on his smoke. "How wrong you are, woman."

She didn't respond; instead looking at Temple with both curiosity and disgust.

Seeing her response, Greg grinned a little. "Something that Miss Jade doesn't know about? Well, there's a shock. Yep, we have both Arman's formula and the antidote. And from those we've developed a new weapon, one that your precious serum is ineffective against."

"Why?" Jade asked, the word barely coming out as a whisper.

"Because The Consortium wants power and control. Frankly, for me, I don't give a shit anymore. I won't live long enough to see the board's final solution come to fruition."

"And this is what you're going to tell Race? That I helped you do this horrible thing?"

"He's going to love hearing that his bitch of a girlfriend has fucked him in more ways that he thought." Temple laughed, it was deep and disturbing.

"You son of a bitch." Jade spat. Rushing forward, she meant to lash out again, but was stopped dead in her tracks when Temple drew his FNX .45 from behind his back and pointed it dead center between her eyes.

Another smile curled up from the edges of his mouth, the cigarette dangling from his lips. "That's right, sweetheart. You stay right where you are."

"Damn you, Greg. Damn you." Jade snarled.

"Damn us all." Temple remarked dryly. Stepping back, never taking his eyes from her or lowering his pistol, he exited the cell and slammed the door shut.

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The shower felt good; she needed it. Stepping out, Jessie toweled off and dressed. Toweling her hair, she emerged from the bathroom to find Phil seated at the small desk studying his tablet. His brow furrowed, he didn't look up when Jessie sat down on the bed.

"We have a new problem." He swiped his finger along the tablet as he read.

"What now?" Jessie didn't like the tone in his voice.

Swiveling in his seat, he looked at her. "Rage is alive."

"Ezekiel Rage?" Jessie gasped.

Phil nodded. "When I spoke to Agent Dugger he reported that Rage attacked Agent Roberts and the rest of my team in Moscow. He killed my Agents and only by sheer luck did Roberts survive."

"So you were right. There are more people involved than just Temple. I assume Rage escaped?" Jessie asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. Along with the target that Roberts was watching, Melena Zin." Phil shook his head. "There's not much we can do about that at the moment. Our primary focus is still on confronting Rubenstein and pressing him for information on Temple."

"What do we know about him?" Jessie tossed the towel on the bed. Moving to stand next to him, Jessie took the tablet from Phil, her eyes scanning the information displayed on the screen.

"For starters, he's the proprietor of the establishment." Corbin replied. He scratched the back of his head, thinking. "We have to figure out a way to isolate him. I don't like the idea of confronting him during bisiness hours. The collateral damage should things go south could be devastating."

Jessie handed the tablet back. Turning away, she paced the length of the small room. Phil studied her, watching her attack the problem before her. Stopping, she turned to him and suggested, "What if we don't confront him at all?"

"What do you mean?"

"You got the blueprints, right?"

Phil nodded. "Yeah. Dugger sent them over along with what he could find on Rubenstein."

"Is there a way we can get into the place and search his office? Maybe the information he has will be in there? Maybe we don't even need to nab the man himself, just get our hands on documents that could lead us to The Consortium."

Smiling a little, Phil leaned back in the chair. "That could work. But we'd have to be quick and make it in and out without being detected."

"I can do that." Jessie said. "You can stay at the bar and watch Rubenstein. I doubt he'd be in his office during the dinner rush, preferring to be out on the floor ensuring his staff are attending the customers."

"Okay."

"I can be in and out of his system in no time. I can snag whatever files I can find and who knows he might even have some hard documents lying about."

"Like a business card listing the address for The Consortium's hideout." Phil chuckled. "If we could be so lucky."

"Yeah." Jessie smirked a little. "Either way, it would lower the risk of interaction with innocent bystanders and if trouble did happen, you'd be able to see it and intervene."

Corbin pondered Jessie's suggestion; it was sound. Standing, he said, "Okay. I think this can work." Glancing at his watch, he said, "I'm going to take a shower, so study those blueprints. After that, let's head out and recon the exterior of the place."

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"Gag him." Temple ordered the moment he stepped into Race' cell.

Hands still bound behind his back, Race looked up when he heard Temple's voice and watched Greg's men stride forward. One slung his rifle over his shoulder and pulled a dark bandana from his pocket. Stiffening, Race shook his head, but his resistance was all for naught. He was bound and weak, but that didn't stop him from doing what he could to make things a tad more difficult for Temple and his minions.

The guard grasped Race by the jaw and quickly emplaced the gag in his mouth, securing it with a knot at the back of Race's head. Race's eyes never left Temple's. The former friends, now deadly enemies, stared each other down with looks of defiance and hate.

Prisoner secured, the two men stepped back, allowing Temple to move forward. He withdrew a cell phone from his pocket. Eyes still on Bannon, he used his thumb to unlock the device, then open the appropriate app. Race watched with a keen interest.

Using his thumb, Temple dialed a number. The phone was on speaker. Race heard the other end pick up. Greg smiled.

"Where the hell have you been, Greg? I've been going ballistic back here."

Race tensed; pulling against his restraints. He tried to call out, but the gag prevented him from speaking. The guards came forward and each placed a hand on a shoulder, but Race continued to struggle. The whole time, Temple grinned.

"Hey there, Hotshot. Sorry I haven't checked in sooner. I've been a bit busy." Temple replied.

Neck careening, Race's eyes filled with hate. He hated Greg more than anything at that very moment because the voice of Jonny Quest through the phone confirmed Race's worst fears. Greg had been telling the truth; he'd turned Jonny.

"When are you coming back?"

"Soon, Jonny. I'm almost done with my business here."

"They say there's another mission coming up." Jonny reported.

Race couldn't believe what he was hearing; refused to believe it. Temple snickered at Race's anguish.

"That's right, Hotshot. Grimm should have it all ready by the time I get back. Do me a favor and check in with him when we're done talking. Make sure he knows I'll be back soon. Argus can get a bit of tunnel vision when he's working."

Race paused in his struggles. Grimm. Argus Grimm. Ezekiel Rage. Another dead man that seemed to not be very dead. Again, Temple smirked at Race's reaction.

"Got it, Greg. Anything else?"

"How've you been spending your free time?"

Race heard Jonny snort a laugh. "Let's just say I'm finding ways to make the time go by."

"That's my boy." Temple shot back. "What's her name?"

Race's heart sank when he heard Jonny laugh in response. "I didn't ask."

"Smart move. I'll talk to you later, Hotshot." Temple stated then ended the call.

Race immediately dropped his head. He felt defeated; finished. He'd failed Jonny; failed Benton. He was a failure. Temple had won; the bastard had actually won.

The guard removed his gag. Race raised his head, his eyes locking with Temple's again. "You son of a bitch." Race breathed. His defeatist attitude vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared the moment he was able to speak. Looking at the smug visage of Greg Temple gave rise to a renewed anger and determination in Race. He tensed again, his muscles aching, but he didn't care; he didn't feel the physical pain at that moment; he only felt his rage.

"This doesn't change anything, Greg. I'm still going to kill you. I'm going to fucking kill you and I will save Jonny. I don't care what you've done to him, I can change him back."

"No you can't." Temple replied evenly. "He'll never let you. He hates you."

"Why?"

"Because you killed his mother." Temple's words cut through Race as sharply as the razor he'd used on to slice his skin days earlier.

"What?" He muttered. "I did no such thing. I didn't even know Rachel."

"That's not what Jonny thinks."

"Are you proud of yourself? You filled that kid's head with lies, Greg."

Temple snorted a little at Race's remark. He didn't answer, instead putting the phone away. Reaching into his other pocket, he made a show of retrieving his straight razor and flipping it open knowingly. Carefully, he ran his thumb along the edge, watching it glisten in the harsh light of the cell. His eyes wandered back to Race. Temple was a bit disappointed, he thought he'd have broken Race by now, but it appeared his former ally was stronger than Greg had assumed. Race continued to stare back, challenging Temple to do his worse. Stepping forward, Temple was happy to oblige.

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With a casual glance towards the bar, Jessie made subtle eye contact with Phil. The restaurant was crowded and she had identified Rubenstein as the man behind the bar. He was a wiry man with thick black hair and bushy eyebrows. He chattered with a waitress while filling large steins with the local brew from the tap. He didn't seem to notice Phil who was seated at the far end of the long, wooden countertop being attended by a separate bartender. Jessie watched her mentor order a beer, but he didn't drink from it.

During their recon earlier in the day, they had discovered a small alleyway that veered off behind the local establishment, with a door that led inside; at the time it had been locked since the Haus des Kaisers was closed, but the blueprints Corbin's man had sent confirmed it connected with a hallway in the back of the restaurant that led to the kitchen, store rooms, and Rubenstein's office.

They had parked their car a few blocks away and walked to the restaurant. The streets were only slightly crowded due to the sudden onslaught of rain that had started earlier in the evening and had only recently started to subside as darkness fell in the city. The Haus des Kaisers was off the beaten path, more of a local hang out than one that attracted the tourist crowds, but Jessie was still able to make out a few different languages being spoken other than German.

She stepped back outside, into the rain. Knowing that Corbin was in position, able to watch both Rubenstein and the hallway that led from the interior of the restaurant towards the back, Jessie was confident she could get in and out without anyone noticing. If caught, her contingency plan would be to feign ignorance, babbling in a mix of English and Spanish that she had gotten lost on her way to the restroom. Her little backpack was secured on her back.

Making her way to the alleyway, Jessie glanced about, making sure no one was paying too much interest to her or even following her. When she was satisfied, she rounded the corner, then slipped into the darkened alley. Moving quickly, but cautiously due to the slick cobblestones, she arrived at the rear door of Rubenstein's place undetected. Checking the door, she exhaled when she found it was unlocked, the employees leaving it that way so they could dispose of trash during business hours and never assuming someone would try to sneak into the back of a restaurant while open.

Jessie grinned at their mistaken assumptions. Opening the door a crack, she peered into the hallway, finding it clear. A second later she'd slipped back inside. Hugging the wall, Jessie made herself as small as possible. Passing the noisy kitchen, she found the door to Rubenstein's office, turned the handle and pushed inside.

The space was tiny, serving as both an office and a makeshift storage area. The desk was a mess, clutter piled high in unmarked stacks of loose-leaf paper, shipping invoices, receipts, receiving reports and other documents Jessie didn't bother to glance at.

Shaking the mouse, Jessie smiled when the monitor came to life. The machine was both turned on and unlocked.

'Too easy.' Jessie smirked. Setting the backpack down, she got her flash drive, inserted it into the computer and as soon as the device was ready, she started dumping files onto it. While the computer worked to copy the files, Jessie snagged a number of the invoices and papers from the desk; not enough to arouse suspicion at first glance, but enough to hopefully make some sort of connection.

Voices filtered through the door. Jessie paused. Holding her breath, she waited. Eventually, the voice receded. She let out an inaudible exhale, then continued on with her task. When the computer files were done, she snatched the drive out of the port, put it back in the backpack with the papers and slung the bag over her shoulders. Ear pressed to the door, Jessie strained to listen. When she didn't hear anything, she slowly turned the knob, making as little sound as possible. Stepping into the hall, she looked towards the exit.

"Eindringling!"

Jessie spun. At the far end of the hall, near the threshold to the restaurant stood a startled man in a dark suit. He glared at Jessie for a brief second, then stalked forward, his speed increasing with each step.

"Achtung! Stopp!" His shouts appeared to alarm some of the staff, Jessie saw a few heads pop out from the kitchen doorway.

"Shit." Jessie grunted. Turning, she quickened her step back to the door, needing only a few precious seconds to escape.

She ignored the rising commotion behind her, her eyes focused on the metal crossbar of the steel door. She was moving at full speed now and hit the release in one fluid motion, pushing the door outward and propelling herself into the chilly, rainy night.

Her pursuer was fast. He closed the distance with her and she only made it a few steps into the alley, when he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Kleiner Dieb." He spat. His hand curled around the backpack and he tugged, trying to pull the sack from Jessie's back.

"Hey."

Jessie and Rubenstein's man heard Phil at the same time. He had emerged from the same doorway they had both exited, probably drawn into the back by the shouts of the guard.

The German let go of Jessie. Turning, he reached beneath his jacket, but he was too slow. Phil was on him in a heartbeat, clamping his left hand down on the man's right arm. Pivoting, the two men spun as one, a strange type of dance in the dark, wet alley. Jessie saw Phil pull a pistol, noticing he had a sound suppressor attached to the end; it was the weapon they had taken off the assassin on the train. She also saw that he was wearing gloves.

Phil slammed the man into the wall, jammed the pistol at an upward angle into the man's torso and fired. Jessie heard the faint report from the handgun as the bullet traveled from the barrel, through the suppressor, and into her assailant's chest. The man went limp immediately. Phil let go of the body.

Looking away without a shred of concern for what he'd just done, Phil locked eyes with Jessie then pointed at the mouth of the alley. "Move."

Jessie didn't hesitate. She turned and ran. The exit seemed to get further and further away the closer they got. Her breathing became heavy almost immediately. She heard new voices shouting from the place they had just left. Phil's heavy footfalls stopped. Jessie paused and looked back. Phil had turned back towards the door and fired a few shots towards two new men that had exited the restaurant.

They ducked beneath the rounds and it gave Phil and Jessie the time they needed. He tossed the weapon into a nearby drainage grate and grabbed Jessie by the shoulder. Phil directed her down a small alleyway that branched off to the left before the main exit, "This way."

She didn't argue. She just ran.

With a glance over her shoulder, Jessie saw the men round the corner of where she and Phil had just been moments before, Brightened only by the pale yellow glow of random bulbs that illuminated doors at the rear of whatever establishments occupied the buildings surrounding them. The rain made the uneven cobblestones slick and Jessie stumbled as she ran.

"Head for that low wall." Phil stated between breaths, indicating a wall at the end of their course. "Keep moving, Jess." His words came out in short breaths as they ran, each step bringing them closer to the wall; if they could make it over, they'd be able to escape their pursuers.

The pounding steps of the men chasing them drew closer. Reaching the wall, Jessie leapt onto the top of a nearby dumpster, but the lid was slick with the residue of rainwater. Mindful to keep her footing, she felt Corbin reach up and steady her just as the men that chased them arrived.

"Go." Phil said as he pushed Jessie upward, turning his body as he did, he first man lunged forward. Twisting to avoid the attack, Phil stumbled backwards as the man buried the blade of a butterfly knife into the right side of Corbin's midsection, just above his hip. Grunting, Phil staggered as the razor sharp steel penetrated his flesh. Grabbing on to the man's hands, Phil fell backwards, bringing his attacker down with him.

Gritting his teeth, Phil bit back the pain that burned through his abdomen.

"No!" Jessie yelled. Dropping the backpack, she jumped down from the top of the dumpster.

Snarling, Phil's attacker broke free from the Agent's grasp, tearing the blade vertically through Phil's abdomen causing him cried out in pain and collapsed on the drenched cobblestone. Turning to face the redhead, Rubenstein's thug repositioned the bloodied blade in his hand to prepare for Jessie's attack, but his movement was too slow. Leaping forward, Jessie ducked beneath the man's arms, hooking her legs around one of his. Jessie fell to the ground and kicked, pulling the man's trapped leg out from beneath him. Startled by the move, the man crashed to the ground and dropped the blood stained knife.

The pale yellow light from a nearby bulb caused the shiny handle of the weapon to gleam against the slick ground. Jessie scrambled out from beneath the man and snatched the blade up into her hands. Moving quickly, not allowing their attacker time to recover, Jessie rammed the blade into the back of the goon's neck.

Breathing heavily, she yanked the deadly instrument free the moment she felt his body go limp. Scanning her surroundings, she saw the man's compatriot fleeing back the way they had come, but whether it was because he was scared or because he was going for reinforcements she didn't know, nor did she have time to wait and find out.

Moving towards Corbin, she saw he was seated with his back against the low wall, one leg bent and the other stretched out before him, clutching his stab wound with both hands. "Let me see." She set the knife down and knelt in front of him.

Moving his hands, she frowned, the wound was bleeding freely. "Stay still."

"You don't have time to worry about me." Phil replied, his teeth clenched together to combat the pain.

"No one dies tonight, Phil." Jessie replied. "Well, no one I care about anyways." She added after looking at the corpse of the man she'd just killed.

Phil grimaced, "Bannon humor."

Reaching forward, she pulled his shirt from his waistband to expose the wound. It was a decent size; a long slash from the blade being torn out. The amount of blood worried her. While the bleeding wasn't indicative of an arterial wound, she couldn't determine how deep the blade had gone. He'd need medical care soon.

Reaching over to retrieve her dropped backpack, she pulled out the small first aid kit. Opening the bandages she pressed them firmly against Phil's wound, causing him to inhale sharply and wince.

"Good," She said as he placed his hands atop the bandage, applying pressure. "The pain reminds you that you're alive."

"I'm starting to think that being around Bannons is hazardous to my health." He replied.

Smirking, she pushed his leg down and assisted him in scooting away from the wall. Lifting up the back of his leather jacket and shirt, Jessie worked to wrap the cloth cravat completely around his torso, securing it over the wound in order to keep the pressure on and hopefully stop the bleeding.

With his wound covered, Jessie put the kit back in the backpack and hefted it over her shoulders. "We need to move before the other one comes back."

"Agreed." Phil said as he slowly stood, placing a hand on the wall to steady himself.

Knowing it would be difficult for Phil to get over the wall, Jessie picked up the butterfly knife and wiped it clean against her jeans. She'd have preferred to use the dead man's clothes for the gruesome task, but as Phil had taught her, she had to remain cognizant of leaving as little evidence behind as possible. Smearing Corbin's blood onto the man that she had killed was probably not the smartest move she could make. Pocketing the knife, she scanned the area. "We need to get back to the car."

"We need to get over the border." Phil said as the duo left the alley. "We need to get to Prague."

"What's in Prague?" Jessie asked.

Phil smiled weakly, hoping he could hold out long enough to get himself and Jessie to the old city safely. "An old friend."

"Really?" Jessie raised an eyebrow in response to the way Phil spoke. "You and my dad aren't really that different, are you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Phil replied with another wince.

"This old friend," Jessie continued. "What's her name?"

Phil smiled as best he could without causing himself more pain.

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Jonny found Rage busy at work in The Consortium's lab. A handful of workers hurried about, but none bothered the masked man.

Walking confidently up to his former foe, Jonny didn't bother to wait till Rage wasn't occupied. "Temple told me to let you know he'll be back soon so you best be ready."

Rage huffed. His back was bowed, hunched over his work, his mechanical hand coiling around a metal container filled with test tubes. If being around the deranged man wasn't unnerving enough, the sight of his strange appendage always made Jonny shudder.

"Tell your master that the formulas will be ready. He has no reason to question my work. The book of Rage guides me."

' _You know you're fucking insane, right?'_

That's what Jonny _wanted_ to say, yet besides Temple, Rage was the least combative of The Consortium's board members that Jonny had to deal with. In fact, Jonny felt that Rage saw the young Quest as more of an annoyance, a pesky gnat that no matter how many times you shooed it away, it always came back. Jonny could live with that.

So instead he simply replied, "Fine, but I hope your formula does what it's supposed to do. I never took you for a biochemist, Rage."

That made Rage stop. Straightening his back, he swiveled in his chair to face the blonde. "There are many things you do not understand, Jonny Quest. Many things."

"That's the problem here. You all want to act like I should know what's going on, but you can't be bothered to tell me." Jonny shot back.

"You are told what you need to be told. Just like any other member of our organization. Do not think you are special simply because of who you are or because Temple protects you."

Jonny sneered, "Just what is Temple protecting me from, Rage?"

Rage cocked his head, studying the young man. "Not everyone here is your friend, Jonathan. I suggest you choose your allies wisely. The moment Temple dies you will be on your own and there are those that walk these halls that are far more dangerous than Gregory Temple."

"He's not going to die, damnit." Jonny growled.

"We all shall die, Jonathan. So it is written in the book of Rage."

"Why does Greg refer to you as Grimm?" Jonny asked.

"That is how he knows me. From another life. However, Argus Grimm died in Panagua."

Before Jonny could respond, Rage returned to his work. His mechanical hand whirring as it picked up one of the test tubes from the tray. Jonny walked away _, 'Nutjobs! The lot of them.'_

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The rain had returned as Jessie maneuvered the vehicle through the streets of Old Town in the heart of the Czech Republic's capital city.

The hour was closing in on midnight and the streets were deserted, the rain keeping people indoors. _Better for us._ Jessie thought as she glanced over at Phil. His breathing had returned to normal and his wound had stopped bleeding, at least for now, but he still looked ragged. He tried to hide it, but every time she ran over a bump or uneven surface he'd inhale sharply and winced.

"Are you sure we can't take you to the hospital?" Jessie asked. "You could use a false name."

"I'm an American that was stabbed." Phil replied with short breaths, as if the act of speaking still caused him considerable pain. "The people that are after us are not fools, Jess. They'll have eyes everywhere, including here. If we go to the hospital, they'll know."

"You need a doctor, Phil."

Ignoring the girl's statement, Phil pointed to an opening in the side of the building along the right side of the road. "Turn in there."

Jessie nodded and guided the vehicle into the small entryway that led to the parking garage for the flats. "Your friend lives here?" Jessie found the first available spot and squeezed the small vehicle in.

"Follow me." Phil ordered as they got out of the car and headed down the entryway back to the street.

Peering into the darkness, Jessie watched Corbin scan their surroundings. Once he was convinced they weren't being followed or observed, he nodded at her and headed across the street. Staying in the shadows, Jessie followed the I-1 Director as he kept close to the edge of the building opposite of the one where they parked.

Reaching the entry, Phil motioned at the door, "Think you can pick this lock?"

Examining the keyhole she nodded. It would be difficult in the darkness, but she was at least thankful for the rain providing concealment from wandering eyes.

Pulling the tools from the backpack, Phil handed them to Jessie as she knelt down to work. She noticed he had removed his bloodied gloves and his hand was shaking as she took the toolset from him. She knew Phil's new objective was to get her to safety ahead of his own health, but she still couldn't help but worry about him. The longer he went without care for his stab wound, the greater his chances of succumbing to the wound became.

Jessie shook her head, she wished there was more she could do for him, but she knew there wasn't, at least not right now. Working the tools into the lock, she turned her attention to it and within moments the lock clicked and the door opened.

"Good job." Phil's voice was encouraging, but also weak. "Come on."

Following him inside, they made their way to the top floor. The building was only five stories, yet it was slow going as each flight of stairs seemed to drain more of Phil's energy reserves. By the time they reached the top, Jessie was supporting him from under his arm and it appeared that his wound had started to bleed again.

Approaching the only door at the top of the stairs, Phil knocked three times as hard as he could.

Jessie studied their surroundings as they waited. Based on the layout of the building in relation to where they stood, she surmised that behind the door must have been a huge, expansive apartment.

Phil knocked again and Jessie moved with him as he propped himself against the door jam, taking his weight off his weary legs. A few moments later, Jessie saw a glow peeking out from below the door as someone turned on a light and moved about inside. She heard muffled steps and assumed the person was walking over a carpet, reaching into her pocket she held the butterfly knife securely in her grasp just in case.

"Kdo je to?" A female voice asked in Czech. Jessie smiled inwardly; she was right that Phil's contact was a woman.

"It's Phil." Corbin replied. "Phil Corbin."

Jessie heard locks being turned and a moment later, the door swung inward. Standing on the other side was Alena Stasny.

"You're fucking kidding me?" Jessie whispered as she saw the former President of the Czech Republic standing before them.

"Phil?" Alena breathed as her eyes widened at the sight of her former lover's physical state. "My God, what happened to you? Come in. Come in." Her appearance confirmed they had aroused her unexpectedly from her sleep. She wore a cream colored silk nightgown, covered by a red silk robe. She still wore her hair short, and it looked like she had ran her fingers through it to give herself a more awake appearance.

Moving inside, Jessie helped Phil as Alena closed the door behind them and bolted it shut. Jessie was right, the apartment suite was huge.

Alena grabbed Phil's other arm to help steady him as she guided him into the large living area. Helping him sit on the couch, Jessie immediately went to work looking at his wound.

"Phil…I…" Alena started. She was at a loss for words.

"We had nowhere else to go." Phil said.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" Jessie asked the woman; she'd already depleted the supply of bandages from the one she carried.

"Yes, hold on." Alena nodded. Standing she hurried off to retrieve the medical supplies.

"Seriously, Phil?" Jessie asked as she carefully examined the man's bandages. "Your contact is the former President of the Czech Republic?" The Czech Government's election system differed from that of the US, but Jessie had read that Alena Stasny had chosen not run for re-election after the incidents with General Vostok and the mythical Golem creature as well as Miloš Dunček.

Phil smiled, "I have a lot of contacts."

"From the look on her face, I think you two are a little more than professional contacts."

Phil smiled, "Well, that was a long time ago."

"Damn," Jessie mumbled.

Alena returned and handed the kit to Jessie. "What are you doing here? And Jessie Bannon?"

"Pleasure to see you again, Madam President." Jessie nodded, "Now do you mind giving me a hand?"

Blinking Alena said, "Yes, of course. I'm sorry."

"Help me get his jacket and shirt off."

"Hey now." Phil joked.

"Can it, Corbin." Jessie grumbled.

Alena nodded. Moving in such a way as to lessen any impact on his wound, Phil repositioned himself on the couch so Alena could pull his jacket and shirt off from behind and not put too much pressure on his arms.

"I need some water." Jessie ordered as Phil handed her his firearm then leaned back on the couch so Jessie could remove the old bandage.

Alena nodded and moved off to get a bowl of water. Coming back and handing it over, she sat down on the edge of her coffee table so she could be close to her old friend while Jessie tended his wounds. "You should go to the hospital." Alena stated as she took Phil's hand in hers, stroking it gently.

"I can't. It's too dangerous. I just needed to get Jessie here so she'd be safe."

"I can bring someone here."

Phil shook his head, "That's too risky."

"Trust me, Phil." Alena said. "Please."

Jessie agreed. "These bandages are just short term solutions, Phil. Without proper care, you could very well die. You've lost quite a bit of blood already."

Phil sighed. "Fine. Just don't tell him who I am or what's going on."

"You haven't even told me what is going on." Alena reminded him. "Lie down. I'll be right back."

Alena left as Phil lied down on his back on the couch. "Jessie, you can trust Alena, you know that. She's helped me in the past. She was best friends with Rachel Quest."

"What's the next move?" Jessie asked.

"If Alena will let us stay, we can lie low and figure that out."

"Of course you can stay. My brother is a doctor and he is on his way here now. You do not have to worry about him." Alena said as she came back into the room. She had a blanket that she gently placed over Phil's legs. "But what is going on? Who stabbed you and why?"

"We're looking for Jonny and my father." Jessie explained.

Alena sucked in a breath, startled by her response. "My angel? What's happened to him?"

"We were both kidnapped a number of months ago by human traffickers." Jessie explained. "I was rescued, but we didn't get to Jonny in time. The traffickers sold him as part of an international smuggling ring."

"We think there's more going on though," Phil replied. He had one hand raised to his forehead and his eyes were closed. "We were…procuring information from a man in Nuremburg, but we were attacked. I was stabbed as we tried to escape."

"What do you need?" Alena inquired.

Jessie asked, "I assume you have safeguards in your network systems here at your residence?"

Alena nodded. "Yes."

"I'm sure it's not one hundred percent secure, no network truly is, but I might be able to backdoor through your system. I can mask my signal identity through VPNs, proxy servers, and reroute the packets through a number of different sites. That way if someone is watching for us out there in cyberspace, they not only will not know it's me, but they won't be able to trace the signal to the real source either."

Phil gave her an encouraging look, "Do what you have to do."

"We'll be safe here for a while, hopefully long enough for to unravel whatever data we can from what I took from Rubenstein's office." Jessie remarked, not liking how weak Phil looked.

A knock on the door drew Alena back to the entrance. Instinctively, Jessie reached around her back and grasped the grip of her pistol, ready to draw if necessary. She watched Alena leave and return a moment later with a man. He definitely bore a striking resemblance to her, but he was older and sported a number of grey hairs.

Jessie listened as the former President and her brother spoke in Czech while walking over.

"This is my brother Edgar." Alena said.

"Thank you for coming." Jessie said, loosening her grip on the hidden pistol.

The old man nodded. Setting his medical bag down, he examined Jessie's handiwork and gave the young woman an approving glance. "You did well with his bandages. He probably would not have made it this far without you, young lady."

"Thanks." Jessie replied solemnly as she kept her features neutral. At one time a compliment such as the one Edgar had given her would have made her blush, but not anymore. Within the last two weeks, Jessie had grown up considerably; no longer a child, but a determined woman on a dangerous and deadly mission.

"I suggest you two ladies retire to another room." Edgar suggested.

Jessie shook her head. "I'm staying right here."

"Jess," Phil started, but the young redhead cut him off.

"I'm staying." Turning towards Alena, Jessie said, "but that doesn't mean you have to."

"I'm staying too." Alena replied. The women's defiance caused Phil to roll his eyes.

Edgar simply nodded and opened his bag, "This may get somewhat messy. I have to see how deep the wound goes. That will determine how far down I have to go to repair it."

"Do I get anything for the pain?" Phil asked.

"I do not carry anesthesia around in my bag, young man." Edgar replied. "But I can give you a shot of morphine."

"Better than nothing." Phil nodded.

"It is going to hurt regardless."

"Pain and I are old acquaintances."

"Very well." Edgar replied, preparing the syringe for the morphine injection.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

 **Author's Note: This chapter is majority Jessie. Enjoy.**

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Two hours later Edgar departed, leaving Phil bandaged and drugged, but alive. They had moved him into Alena's bedroom where he was currently asleep in her bed, lying flat on his back, the covers pulled halfway up his torso.

Watching him sleep from the doorway, Alena smiled, "I never thought that man would be in my bed again."

Standing next to the older woman, Jessie grunted a laugh at Alena's dry humor. She was still amazed to have learned that Phil and Alena had once been a couple. "Thank you for taking us in, Madam President. I don't think he'd have lasted much longer. He was determined to get me here safely ahead of his own well-being."

"That's the type of man he is." Alena replied in a low voice. Moving out of the bedroom, they left the door open. "Men like Phil and your father are rare. They put the needs of others before their own. And please, call me Alena, I am no longer the President."

Jessie followed Alena into the kitchen and watched the woman retrieve a bottle of red wine from the refrigerator. Opening it, she poured two glasses and handed one to Jessie.

Taking a sip, Jessie found the wine refreshing. She nodded her thanks. "When was the last time you saw Phil?" Jessie could tell the woman still had feelings for the I-1 Director, feelings that she probably didn't even realize she still possessed until he showed up on her doorstep, half dead and desperate for help.

"It has been a number of years. I know he is married and has two beautiful daughters and I am happy for him." Alena sighed. "Though, at times, I wish things could have worked out between us."

"Why didn't they? Why didn't things work out?" Jessie asked. She found she was genuinely curious about the couple.

"Well for starters, he is American and I am Czech. Talk about a long distance relationship! But we tried and we made it work for a while." Alena laughed a little. "When we first met, we were both at early stages of our respective careers and neither one of us was ready to give that up. We did stay together for almost two years, both traveling to see the other when possible."

Jessie's listened intently as Alena's eyes glazed over, a sad smile forming on her lips as she gazed into the past to recount her tale.

"During one of my visits he left in the middle of the night after receiving a phone call. He didn't tell me where he was going, just that an assignment came up and he had to leave. I think he was sent to South Africa; while on the mission he disappeared. I shouldn't have even known about it, but your father and Phil are very close and Race told me that the agency had lost contact with Phil. I feared he was dead. I couldn't handle it. Your father went to find him and they returned a week later. But Phil was different. He never told me where he was or what happened, but I could tell that something was wrong. We didn't last much longer after that. I was being selfish, but I couldn't take the constant worry. We weren't married, so I-1 owed me nothing, not even a notification if something happened to him. I couldn't take it any longer, the not knowing if he was alive or dead; or when he left if he'd come back the same man or someone entirely different. I ended our relationship a few months later." With a sigh of remorse she added, "I think I broke his heart."

"That's so sad." Jessie replied softly, taking a sip of the wine. Hearing Alena voice her concerns about a man she loved made Jessie think back to her own parents and the struggles they had endured. It also reminded her of how selfish she had been in regards to her own relationship with Jonny.

"I was happy for him when I heard he found someone new and started a family. So I moved on as well, but there's something to be said about that one true love. I'm just sad that I let mine slip through my fingers and I did not realize it till it was too late. But you, Jessie, I can tell that you are deeply connected to your one true love, to Jonny. When you find him, never let him go. No matter how hard things get, always remember that the trying times are just hurdles you must overcome and defeat in order to reach your destination and you want to reach that destination together. Jonny Quest, is a wonderful young man and he will treat you right, I have no doubt. Do the same for him."

"I will. I made some mistakes and I intend to rectify those mistakes when I find him." Jessie stated, emptying her wine glass with one last gulp. "I love him more than life itself. I can't live without him, I know that now. I was foolish to ever think my life would be better without him. I want him, no, I need him in my arms."

Alena smiled warmly. "I can tell." Yawning, she glanced at the clock in the kitchen. "Perhaps you would care to take a shower and get a little rest? Treat this flat as your own. Phil would insist that for safety's sake I do not alter my plans or routine as to not arouse suspicion."

Jessie nodded her agreement. "My dad always preaches the same mantra."

"I consult with a private non-profit firm now. I have meetings throughout the day."

"Why does the former President need to work at all?" Jessie wondered.

"I like to keep busy and volunteering to help the less fortunate has always been a passion of mine."

Jessie smiled, "Alena, I'm curious. Why do you not have bodyguards? I would think the former President would have bodyguards." Jessie asked.

Alena set her glass down. "I consider myself to be a very independent woman. I do not feel the need for bodyguards, but if I request it, the Government will provide them to me."

Jessie nodded. "I see."

"Let me show you the guest room. You can also use the laundry if you desire. I'm not sure if any of my clothes will fit you and Phil will definitely need his clothes cleaned. I will bring some new clothes for both of you when I return from work."

"Thank you, Alena. We brought a few things with us before we had to flee, but anything extra would help. You're putting a lot on the line for us and I greatly appreciate it."

Alena smiled as the two women stopped briefly at her bedroom. Checking on Phil, they found he was still sound asleep. "Like I said before, I loved this man and I hurt him deeply. This is just one small way I can make it up to him."

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Looking at alarm clock, Jessie saw it was almost half past nine A.M. local time. Sitting up, she stretched her arms above her head and climbed out of the bed in Alena's guest room. The few hours of sleep were a godsend and she felt a thousand times better after the harrowing ordeal she had been through over the last two days.

Getting up, she showered and dressed then went to Alena's room. Phil was still asleep, but he stirred when Jessie entered. Walking over, she placed a hand on his shoulder, "Phil, wake up."

Phil moaned and slowly opened his eyes. Jessie noticed his eyelashes were caked with crust which he slowly rubbed away with the back of one of his hands. Color had returned to his features. "Where am I?"

"In Alena's bed." Jessie teased.

"What?!" He gasped as he tried to sit up which resulted in a wince of pain. He'd been so drugged up when they had moved him, he had no recollection of it.

Jessie laughed. "Relax, lover boy. We moved you in here after her brother stitched you up. I need to check your bandages, so please look to see if you have your shorts on."

Phil fell back onto the pillow, "You moved me in here naked?"

"No, not completely. But Alena did wash your clothes for you, so I want to make sure she umm...put your boxer-briefs back on. Jonny has a tendency to strip down naked when he gets too hot beneath the covers, so I want to ensure you're not the same way."

Phil chuckled as he looked beneath the comforter and saw that he was wearing his briefs. He announced, "All clear. My wife would kill me if she knew I was in a former girlfriend's bed right now."

Jessie shook her head with a smirk as she checked Phil's bandages. "How are you feeling overall?"

Phil grumbled. "My abdomen is sore. But overall, I could be worse."

"You could be dead." Jessie reminded him. "Luckily Alena took us in."

"Where is she?" Phil asked as he tried to get out of bed.

Jessie placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. "You need to stay in bed for a while longer. Alena went to work. She said you'd want her to stick to her routine."

"Smart woman."

"I'm going to make something to eat. You should eat as well."

"I'll take some coffee, eggs, and bacon." Phil suggested.

"At least you still have your wit." Jessie remarked with a smile. "You'll get a muffin and some water. Alena's brother left some antibiotics and pain medication that you need to take with food."

Rolling his eyes, Phil grumbled, "Fine."

"Relax and don't move around too much or else you'll aggravate your sutures. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Phil nodded and closed his eyes. Jessie observed that while he was better, he was still weak and the short conversation they just engaged in had drained him a bit already. Quietly she exited the bedroom and headed into the kitchen.

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Crushing the empty water bottle with both hands, Jonny tossed it into a nearby trash bin then leaned against the wall. Crossing his arms over his chest, he hugged himself tightly, hoping to hide the shakes the mixture still continued to induce every time he drank the substance.

As the side effects began to subside, he concentrated on the target of his desires; the redhead from the other night. He didn't know her name and he didn't want to know. All he saw when he looked at her was the face of Jessie Bannon. A face that caused him to boil over with so many conflicting emotions it made his head hurt. But all those emotions had disappeared when Jonny had taken the young woman into his bedroom, when he'd believed he was sharing himself once again with Jessie. However, now that they were apart, the reality of his situation was back and he hated it. The longer he sat around the castle, doing nothing but getting high, working out, and hooking up, the more agitated he became. He missed the thrill of being in the field with Temple. He missed the rush that he felt when faced with the unknown and the danger that came with what Temple had him do. He missed being a part of the action.

He pushed himself off the wall, intending to invite the girl back to his room again in order to alleviate the jitters he was feeling, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

Spinning, Jonny scowled. "Don't you have anything better to do than follow me around? Annoying the shit out of me?"

Julia huffed a laugh. "Smart mouthed as always."

Jonny shrugged his shoulder, but Julia held him firm. "Let go of me."

"Come here." Julia growled. Jonny was surprised at her strength, her nails digging into his skin through his shirt. She dragged him down the hall, shouldering into a door and pushing Jonny inside.

It was a random storage room; a supply closet barely big enough for the two of them to fit. Inside was a dirty stained sink, an old bucket filled with grey water and a number of ratty mops and brooms. The room stunk like mildew and filth.

"I'm tired of playing nice with you, brat." Julia spat. She blocked the door.

"You know something, Julia, I realize what my mistake was." Jonny sneered back at her.

"Oh really? And what was that?"

"Letting you live after we captured Surd and trapped his mind." Jonny grinned. "I should have killed you back then, but maybe I can still rectify that mistake."

Julia's face darkened. Her hand disappeared into her pants pocket then a moment later came back into view, holding a switchblade. She popped the blade out and waved it at the young Quest. "You're welcome to try, Hotshot. You don't have Temple here to protect you."

"You won't harm me. You're a fool, Julia, but you're not that big of a fool." Jonny laughed. "You kill me and the rest of the board will come down on you with so much fury you won't even know what hit you. Then, when Temple gets back, he'll make you pay for your actions. And I'm sure you'll be begging for him to kill you by the time he's finished with your sorry ass."

"You little shit." Julia grumbled, but she made no move to attack.

Jonny continued to laugh. "You're pathetic. Still a lackey, this time for Zin and the rest of the board. You never amounted to anything, Julia, and you never will. Now get the fuck out of my way."

Julia fumed. Her nostrils flared and her eyes burned with hate. For a brief moment, Jonny questioned whether he had pushed her too far, but there was no going back on his words now. Stepping forward, he rammed his shoulder against her, pushing her aside while reaching for the door.

"Bastard." Julia lashed out. Her emotions driving her actions. Flicking the blade forward, she connected with Jonny's cheek as he passed, slicing into his skin, drawing blood.

Jonny staggered into the wall, his hand going up to the side of his face. It stung like hell. Pulling his hand back, he stared at the blood on his fingers. His eyes moved to Julia. The woman appeared as stunned by her own actions as Jonny was.

He locked his eyes on her for a moment, then wiped the blood on his jeans. He didn't attack. His hand grasped the doorknob, turned, and pushed the door open. Stepping through the threshold, Jonny cocked his head back in her direction, grinning, "You realize you just signed your own death certificate, right?"

He didn't give her a chance to respond. He slammed the door shut, leaving her to stew and contemplate not only her actions, but his words. He headed down the hall, back to the common room, but found the redhead was gone. Snarling, he pivoted on his heel to leave, but stopped when he heard his name.

"Jonny! Hey, Jonny!"

Jonny stopped. His friend Andrew trotted up before Jonny could slip away. His eyes went wide when he saw the fresh cut on Jonny's cheek, a trail of blood dripping down his face. "Holy shit, man. What happened to you?"

Jonny waved it off. "I'll be fine. Where'd that redhead go?"

Andrew shrugged. "I think she headed off to start her shift. Why?"

"No reason. I'll find her later."

Andrew hesitated. Jonny caught it. "What's up? Don't worry about my face. I'm fine, seriously. Are you about to go on shift?"

The younger kid shook his head. "Just finished. I came down here to see what was going on, but nobody's around. I think something's going down soon. There's a lot of hubbub in the air."

"Maybe." Jonny didn't give the kid any more. "Look, I need clean this cut."

Andrew nodded. "Hey, Jonny. Can I…"

"What is it?" Jonny asked. He liked Andrew. He was a good kid. He was definitely shy and Jonny knew the boy looked up to him, seeing Jonny as an older brother. He also knew that Andrew felt safe with Jonny, the older members leaving him alone for fear of possible retaliation from Jonny.

"I was wondering, later tonight, maybe we can hang out. I got some more stuff and I was thinking maybe you can help me with this girl I kind of like."

Jonny smiled. "What have you got?"

"More X." Andrew grinned.

Jonny placed and arm around the kid's shoulder. "Sure, Andrew. Since you're off, why don't we hang out right now? Let me get cleaned up, then we can hit the range and the gym. Later we'll come back down here and find this girl you like."

"Awesome!" Andrew's face lit up.

It made Jonny feel good. He puffed his chest out a bit. _'This must be how Greg felt with me.'_

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The clock in Alena's front room showed the time as one P.M. Jessie looked up for the laptop Alena had given her and rubbed her eyes. She'd downloaded whatever she could from Rubenstein's computer and she'd spent the day reviewing everything from Word Documents to Excel Spreadsheets. Not knowing the best place to start, Jessie had just started from the beginning. She could definitely use a second set of eyes, but Phil needed time to recover, so she was on her own for now.

Her eyes were tired from filtering through so many documents, many in foreign languages, so she decided to take a break. Standing, she stretched, moving to the kitchen for a glass of water. Heading to Alena's bedroom, she found Corbin fast asleep again, the pain medications she'd forced him to take had knocked him out rather quickly. Phil wasn't much different than her father or even herself; he'd kill himself trying to get back into the fight, therefore Jessie had to keep him doped up so he could regain his strength _._

' _He'll be alright soon enough.'_ Jessie told herself as she checked his pulse before taking a quick peek at his bandages. She stepped back when she heard him groan in his sleep, not wanting to wake him. Satisfied that he was okay, she turned to leave the room. Her eyes fell upon his neatly folded clothes, sans his bloody shirt, that Alena had washed for him.

 _'Yeah, she still has a thing for you.'_ Jessie smirked then eyed the man's cell phone. Stealing a look back to ensure he was still asleep, Jessie snatched the device from the top of his clothes and headed out of the room.

"Worth a shot." She mumbled. Scrolling through the contacts list, she noted none of the listings had names, only letters associated with the numbers. She found three numbers that started with the 420 country code for the Czech Republic. Investigating further, two of the three listings had 2 as the next number, which told Jessie those numbers were Prague listings. Of the two, one was marked with the letters MPA which Jessie assumed identified that number as Alena and the second was LTM. Taking a chance, she went to the kitchen and called the number for LTM.

As it rang, Jessie realized she had no idea what she was going to say, she'd called the number solely on a gut feeling. Just as she was about to give up, the call was connected.

"Yes?" The voice on the other end asked, it was male and he spoke English with a thick Czech accent.

"I need your help." Jessie found herself saying.

"Who is this and why are you calling from this number?"

"I'm a friend of your friend." Jessie responded, not wanting to use Phil's or her name, just in case.

"Why did my friend not call?"

"He's indisposed at the moment. But he wants us to meet."

Silence on the other end. Whoever Phil's contact was, he was contemplating whether or not to trust her. "What do you need?"

Jessie smiled, she was in. "I have a list of supplies that your friend and I require."

"If you are in fact a friend, meet me at the site of the last incident."

"What?" Jessie regretted saying it the moment the word left her lips.

"You heard me. Come alone and bring proof you are a friend. Bring your list as well. One hour." The line went dead.

"Shit." Jessie set the phone down. She didn't want to alert Phil as to her actions, but she needed to figure out where to meet this contact. "Think, Bannon. You probably already know."

Jessie racked her brain, trying to recall any detail about Prague, her father, I-1, or Corbin she might have heard or read. "Wait a minute." Taking a seat on the couch, Jessie inhaled, willing herself to concentrate. She could just go wake Corbin and ask, but she needed to know how to think like an Agent, to be isolated and have to figure out the next move on her own. Thinking back, she recalled all the times the Quests and her father had been to Prague, with the incident with the Golem and General Vostok being the most prolific.

Jessie paced the room, her brow furrowed in thought. She stopped, snapping her fingers. "Vostok. Dad had a history with him prior to the Golem. Perhaps," Sitting down she logged onto the internet and did a quick history search on the city and any terrorist attacks. The first returned result showed a thwarted biological attack during an annual Velvet Revolution celebration. Opening the article, she scanned the document and discovered the attack was in Wenceslas Square and while two men were apprehended, authorities believed that more had been involved. Clicking on an accompanying link, Jessie found a collection of aftermath photos. "Well, what have I found?" She opened one of the photos and zoomed in on a group of people in the background. Smiling she was able to identify her father, Corbin, Alena, and Jade; Jessie frowned at the sight of the last woman.

"This has to be it." She mumbled and scanned the article one more time then clicked another link. It was a follow up article that showed a number of men and women on a stage receiving awards for their parts in stopping the attack; she noted that her father and Corbin were not present. But one name stood out, Lieutenant Martinek; LTM.

Scribbling a list of supplies and equipment she thought they'd need, armed with a name and a face, albeit a much younger face, she shrugged into her jacket. Copying LTMs number into her own phone, she shoved it into her pocket along with the butterfly knife. Checking her HK USP, she ensured it was fully loaded, with a round chambered. She verified the safety was ON and secured the weapon in her small-of-the-back holster; hidden beneath her shirt and jacket. She moved back to the bedroom to check on Phil. The idea of leaving him alone was not appealing, but she'd be back soon. Returning his phone to the same spot she had found it, she took his handgun and put it on the nightstand next to him, just in case. Next to the weapon, she left a note saying she went out for food and would be back in an hour, she didn't write down a time.

Ready, Jessie took a deep breath, tucked the key to the apartment that Alena had left into her front pocket, and quietly headed out to Wenceslas Square.

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The afternoon sun helped warm Jessie's face as she made her way through the heart of Wenceslas Square, heading towards the steps of the National Museum. The crowd was thick with tourists and locals alike, but Jessie ignored them as she weaved her way through the sea of people heading for her destination. Scanning the faces, her eyes went to a man seated at the top of the steps. He glanced at his watch a number of times and as Jessie approached she could tell he was the same man from the article, just older.

Martinek appeared to be in the same age range as her father and Corbin and he also retained his handsome and rugged looks. His auburn hair had begun to thin in the back, but he kept it short as to make his bald spot less noticeable at first glance. He stood about the same height as Phil and was just as well built as the I-1 Director. His clothes were not flashy, but they did not appear to be cheap either. Jessie was unable to tell if Martinek was armed, she approached with caution regardless.

Moving towards him, she sat down. "Anyone sitting here?"

He glanced over at her briefly before looking away, "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Our mutual friend."

"Where is he?" Martinek asked.

"Asleep is Alena Stasny's bed right now."

Martinek gave her a strange look. Then a smile spread across his face and he laughed. "I always suspected those two were together. Lucky American dog."

"Not anymore." Jessie stated. "We ran into some trouble and as a result he was stabbed. He'll be alright though. Ms. Stasny is helping us, but we need your help as well."

"Straight to the point. You must be Agent Bannon's daughter, yes? You have his look and his grit."

Jessie retrieved the list from her pocket. Palming the folded up paper, she placed her hand palm down on the cool stone between her and Martinek. The older man placed his hand over hers and she slipped her hand out from beneath his. Without looking at it, he stuffed the sheet into his jacket pocket.

"How soon can you get us what we need?"

"I will call this evening. Be prepared."

"You haven't even looked at the list." Jessie protested.

"I do not need to, young lady." Martinek replied coolly. "You Americans are not the only ones who thrive at these cloak and dagger games." He stood, took out a pair of sunglasses and placed them on his nose. "Tell Philip I said hello."

"He doesn't know I'm meeting with you." Jessie confessed as she got to her feet.

Martinek smiled at her confession. "You've been trained well. However, I suggest you head back."

Martinek had tensed slightly and while she couldn't see his eyes behind his dark shades, she had the impression that he was no longer looking at her. She was about to turn and look, but he placed hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "Do not look. Yes. There are men in the crowd that could very well be watching you. Or they could be watching me. Either way, I must depart. Sit back down."

Jessie did as instructed.

"Two white men. One is bald with a horribly out of fashion goatee, dark glasses, and a black jacket. His ally is wearing a New York Yankees ballcap and is also wearing dark glasses and a brown leather jacket. Wait five minutes. I will attempt to draw them off."

"Okay." Jessie breathed, suddenly feeling like she knew nothing about what she had gotten herself into.

"Ensure you are not followed back to your safe house." Martinek lowered his head and Jessie could tell he was once again looking at her. "If you are followed your adversaries must not learn of your location. Do you understand, Miss Bannon?"

Jessie knew what he was telling her. "I understand."

"I will contact you later this evening. Good luck." Martinek stepped away. He moved in such a way that he blended into the crowd almost immediately. Jessie watched as the two men tried to appear nonchalant, but they too had lost their target amongst the throng of people in the Square. After five minutes, Jessie stood and disappeared into a group of tourists exiting the National Museum.

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Seated on the balcony of their stately hotel room, Estella stared out at the enchanting city that stretched out before her eyes. She'd never been to Munich before, but she found, even with its bleak and dark past, the city still mesmerized and calmed her. The spires of the Cathedral of Our Lady rose from the skyline; tendril or blazing orange and red from the setting sun creating a splendid vision of peace and tranquility.

"Did you enjoy your meal?" Kreed asked.

His words brought Estella back. She lost herself in his eyes; she was in a state of pure bliss.

"Yes, it was wonderful, Lucius."

With a soft smile, Kreed stood, offering his hand to her. Estella took it, allowing the debonair Englishman to lead her back inside. His touch was gentle and Estella felt no reservations when he sat her down on the couch.

Leaning close, he ran a finger through her hair. "You truly are stunning, my dear. I am a lucky man to have found you."

"Lucius," Estella breathed. Their lips were inches apart. She shook with anticipation. "Yes."

He pressed his mouth to hers. Estella welcomed the kiss. Every fear she had melted as their lips touched. With a fiery vigor she hadn't felt in years, her hands moved to his chest, clutching the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him close. Their kiss deepened. She felt his tongue pushing into her mouth. She invited him in. She wanted more.

Moaning with pleasure, Estella felt Kreed pushing her down. His fingers found the top button of her blouse. Her body arched, her hips driving upwards against him; carnal thoughts coursed through her head.

A loud knock on the door interrupted their session. With a groan of distaste, Kreed separated himself from Estella. She frowned.

"Ignore it." She tried to pull him back down, but he pulled away.

"I can't." He muttered, his face clouded with irritation. "Go into the bedroom and shut the doors."

"Lucius," Estella started.

She saw his face darkened, but only for a moment. Another knock, this time harder and louder. He gave her a peck on the lips while pulling her up into a sitting position. "Please, Estella. Go into the bedroom. Whoever it is, I will deal with them and dispatch them on their way."

Estella nodded. She didn't like it, but she could tell that Kreed wouldn't budge. Standing, she went to the bedroom, buttoning her blouse that only moments before had almost made it onto the floor.

Kreed watched her go. When the doors were shut, he turned and went to the exterior door of the hotel. He peered through the peephole and scowled. Opening the door, he said, "What do you want?"

Ian pushed past his father, not bothering to wait for an invite inside. Kreed spied two of his son's bodyguards in the hallway, but they remained where they stood. Closing the door, he followed Ian into the suite. "I asked you a question, Ian."

"We have a problem." Ian stated unceremoniously.

Kreed's eyes drifted towards the French doors that led to the bedroom. Looking back, he saw his son pouring himself a glass of scotch, ignoring his father's odd behavior.

"What problem?"

"Rubenstein was compromised last night." Ian stated.

"Why is that my concern? It sounds more like something you and Gregory should be worried about."

"We should all worry about it, father." Ian spat back. He pulled a folded up manila folder from inside his suit jacket pocket and tossed it on the coffee table.

"What is this?" Kreed asked, picking up the folder and opening it.

"Still shots from Rubenstein's security cameras." Ian downed the scotch in one gulp.

Pulling the photos from the folder, Kreed frowned. He flipped through them while his son continued to speak.

"You know who they are, yes?"

"Of course I do." Lucius replied. "But I'm not concerned."

"Not concerned?" Ian asked incredulously. "You should be concerned. That's the Director of Intelligence One."

"And?"

Ian shook his head. "You're bravado always got in the way of your common sense, father. You don't think Director Corbin's presence is something you should be worried about? I-1 in closing in on us."

"What did he steal?"

" _He_ didn't steal anything. Look at the other pictures."

Kreed did and saw who he knew to be Jessica Bannon. Again, he glanced at the bedroom door.

"She stole documents from Rubenstein's office. Documents linking him to my company!"

"And I assume the next thing you're going to tell me is that they escaped." Kreed growled, tossing the photos onto the table.

"If I had been there they never would have gotten out alive. However, Rubenstein's men were careless. These two managed to kill two of his men, but they did wound the Director during the escape. How seriously he was hurt we don't know. He hasn't shown up in any hospitals."

"He has resources that negate the need of a hospital." Kreed muttered. "However, he could very well be dead and we just don't know it yet."

"I don't believe that and neither do you, father." Ian grumbled. He began to pace, but stopped when he saw the romantic setting on the balcony. Turning back to face his father, the younger man said, "What is this?"

"If you have nothing else for me, I suggest you get to work on finding these two. We do have the ball tomorrow evening and we cannot risk them showing up."

"Do not evade my question, father." Ian stated.

"Leave me, son." Kreed ordered.

Ian ignored him. Before Kreed could intercept, Ian bounded to the French doors and flung them open. His eyes fell upon a shocked and frightened redheaded woman. Estella tried to recoil from him, but McManus reached out and snatched her by the upper arm. Pulling her into the suite, he glared at his father. "Are you mad?!"

"Unhand her, Ian. Now."

"This is Race Bannon's ex-wife, for Christ's sake."

"I heard everything. Who are you?" Estella demanded. She was terrified, but she pushed it away.

"You've ruined everything." Kreed shouted, but Estella saw he was addressing his son, not her.

"Ruined everything? What is the matter with you, father? We're facing a crisis here and you're running about playing games with these people? What were you planning to do with her?"

"That is none of your concern, son." Kreed growled.

"You're part of all this, aren't you? You work for The Consortium." Estella interrupted the family argument. Her voice shook as she spoke.

Ian yanked her forward and threw her down on the couch. Her eyes fell on the pictures Lucius had deposited onto the table; pictures of her daughter and Corbin.

"Kill her, father. She knows too much."

"Only because you burst in here and ran your mouth like the insolent child you always were." Kreed shot back.

"If Doctor Zin finds out about this…" Ian started.

"He won't find out." Kreed replied with a perturbed look.

Without thinking, Estella leapt to her feet and headed for the door. She only made it three steps before she was grabbed by Ian. Pulling her backwards, the young Englishman withdrew a small handgun from the back of his waistband, pressing the barrel against her head. "I'll do it myself if I have to."

"Don't be a fool, Ian. You can't kill her here." Kreed retorted. "Besides, we can use this as an opportunity."

"How so?" Ian didn't remove the gun from her head.

"As leverage against her daughter if need be." Kreed explained. "Now, like I said, unhand her."

With a snort, Ian pushed Estella into Kreed's arms. She immediately tried to pull away, but Lucius held her tight, grinning as his hands tightened around her arms. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, my dear."

"Why? I thought you were different." Estella cried. "To think…I…"

"What? That you were going to give yourself to me?" Kreed laughed. "Yes, it would have been nice, but my son always did have annoyingly impeccable timing of the absolute worst kind."

Looking back at his son, Kreed jerked his head towards the door. "Leave us. I will see you at the ball."

"Do you feel that attending the ball is a wise move at this point?" Ian asked. Estella watched him slowly place his handgun back in its hiding spot.

"We need the money. Zin is expecting the transaction to take place in order to fund Van Brandt's operation."

"Fine." Ian scowled.

A small grin formed on Kreed's lips. His brat of a son, no matter how upset he currently was, would do what he was told. "Until then, do whatever you can to find our I-1 friends and eliminate them. Instruct two of my men in the lobby to come up here on your way out."

Ian huffed. Gathering up the photographs he shook his head and departed.

"You'll never get away with this, Lucius." Estella spat when he tossed her down onto the couch. To her surprise, he made no move towards her. For that, at least, she was thankful. "Race will find you and kill you."

"Your ex-husband is not a threat any longer. Mister Temple has seen to that." Kreed stated.

Estella didn't know how to take his statement; she refused to fear the worst. "Well if not Race, then someone else. Corbin or one of his Agents will hunt you down. I heard what your son said. He's frightened. You both are. I can see it in your eyes. You know I-1 is close. The noose is tightening and you're running out of places to hide." She was shocked by her own resolve.

Kreed, however, appeared unfazed. "Let them come. They don't know what they are up against. Their persistence in this matter will ultimately be their undoing."

Another knock at the door.

"Enter." Kreed yelled.

Two large men stepped inside. They hovered, waiting for orders. "Tie her up and put her in the bedroom. Stay with her, but do not harm her. Is that understood?"

The men nodded.

"Good. I have some business to attend to, I will return shortly." Kreed announced.

When he was gone, Estella shrunk away from Kreed's men, but she had nowhere to go. Within minutes she was bound and gagged and seated on the bed. The goon stared at her, arms crossed over his massive chest. She willed herself not to cry.

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Jessie made an additional trip around the block of both Alena's apartment and the one across the street. Convinced that the men from the Square were watching Martinek and not her, she made her way inside and up to Alena's apartment. Entering as quietly as possible, she shut and bolted the door. Rigid, Jessie paused and listened. When nothing appeared out of the ordinary, she exhaled, shed her jacket and headed for the bedroom.

Peering around the corner, Jessie breathed, ' _Thank you'_ when she saw Phil was right where she had left him. She snagged the note she'd left and moved his pistol back to where it sat previously then shook him gently.

With a groan, Phil's eyes fluttered open. "Where am I?"

"We're not going through this again." Jessie said as Phil rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up into a sitting position, his back against the headboard. "How are you feeling?"

"Groggy, but better. A lot better." Phil answered.

Jessie was thankful he didn't seem to notice she'd been gone. "Good because I need your help. There's too many documents for me to go through on my own."

"What time is it?" Phil stretched his arms precariously over his head. He didn't grimace or keel over when as he did.

Looking at the bedside clock she said, "It's just after four in the afternoon. Alena should be back soon."

Phil nodded, "I think a shower will do me some good. Then we can review what you've discovered."

Jessie agreed, "You feel strong enough to move on your own?"

When he nodded, she pointed towards the bathroom door. "The shower is over there."

Phil smirked and waved a hand at her. "I know where it's at."

"Yeah you do." Jessie quipped, "I'll be in the front room."

Phil was still in the shower when Alena arrived back at the flat. After dropping off some new clothes and hygiene items in the bedroom for Corbin she headed straight for the kitchen to start cooking.

"You really don't have to cook for us, Alena." Jessie remarked as Alena poured glasses of wine for both of them.

"I do not get a chance to cook very often for guests, so it is my pleasure." Alena responded.

Jessie knew there was no chance of talking to woman out of it, so instead she offered to help. "I could use a break for a minute. Staring at all those spreadsheets makes me go cross-eyed."

"What have you discovered?"

Jessie shrugged, "I don't know for sure. But,"

Alena paused when she heard Jessie hesitate. "What is the matter?"

"Phil doesn't know, but I went out earlier."

Alena set down the utensil she was using. "Where did you go?"

"To meet one of his contacts. Lieutenant Martinek."

"You mean Colonel Martinek." Phil said from behind the two women.

Jessie spun at the sound of his voice; she hadn't noticed the sounds from the shower had stopped. Phil walked over to the women as he finished buttoning his shirt. Jessie noted that after a shower and shaving, he looked as if he hadn't been at death's door less than twenty four hours prior. Jessie noted his movements were stiff. He wasn't one hundred percent, but Jessie knew there would be no arguing with him to go back to bed at this point.

"Thank you for the clothes, Alena." Phil said as he came over and gave Alena a kiss on the cheek, causing the woman to blush.

Jessie was at a loss for words, she didn't know where to start; she thought she'd been so cautious. Phil must have seen her anxiety. Smiling he poured himself a glass of wine. Sipping it he said, "I had no idea you left. I assume you found him in my phone, hence why you called him Lieutenant. Tell me how you did it."

"He's not a Lieutenant?" Jessie asked. She was surprised that Phil wasn't angry with her.

Shaking his head, Phil explained. "He was a young Lieutenant in the Castle Garrison when I first met him years ago, hence the abbreviation. Alena's designation could go either way, but the MP actually means Member of Parliament, which is what she was when we first met as well. It was the same mission actually."

"When my dad met Jade? Guess a lot of people were getting acquainted on that mission, huh?" Jessie frowned.

"I knew Jade before your dad did, Jess. Believe when I say, I agree with your assessment of the mysterious woman completely." Phil smiled. "But enough of that. What did you do?"

"Martinek should be calling tonight." Jessie started to retell her tale. "I wasn't getting anywhere with the files and I didn't want to wake you because you needed to rest. I found his number in your phone, called him, and arranged a meeting. But he made me work for it. So I had to do some investigating. I found an article about the Velvet Revolution celebration attack and a photo of you, dad, Alena, and Jade. An article linking Martinek to the event was embedded in the story. That's how I found out where he wanted to meet. I made a list of supplies I thought we'd need and went to him. He said he'll have them tonight."

"He will." Phil nodded. "Martinek's good. After that incident he rose through the military ranks quickly, making Colonel at a phenomenal speed. Then he was recruited into the Office for Foreign Relations and Information."

Jessie gave him a confused look. "So you're not angry?"

"Jess, I told you that you were ready and I meant it. Of course, I would have preferred you woke me up so I could have at least provided you with some backup, but I understand why you didn't. You thought on your feet to solve a dilemma you were facing. Overall, I'd say you did pretty good."

"Thanks." Jessie remarked. "Let me show you the files."

Phil watched her head into the front room. Turning he caught Alena giving him a questionable look. "What?" He asked as he drank the rest of his wine and poured himself some more.

"Do you really want to turn that girl into one of your Agents?" Alena asked.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Alena, she came to me. I didn't force her into this."

"You could have told her no. You are exposing that young woman to a dark and dangerous side of life, Phil."

"She's a Bannon." Phil countered. "Telling her no would be like trying to take a bone away from a starving pitbull. This world is a dark and dangerous place, we both know that and Jessie knows that too. Acting as if it doesn't exist doesn't make it go away. The love of her life is out there somewhere and her father went after Jonny only to go missing too. Jessie is not the type of person that could sit around and let someone else do the dangerous work on her behalf."

Alena sighed softly. Stepping forward, she gently placed a hand on the center of his chest and nodded, "Just be careful, Phil. Please. She looks up to you, like she looks up to her father and to Benton. Don't let her forget what this is really all about."

Setting his glass down on the counter, he took her hand in both of his and narrowing his eyes, he gazed into hers. "What is it all about, Alena?" He asked softly.

"Love. It's about love." She replied. "Do not let her lose herself and forget that love is what is driving her and that love is what is needed after she finds Jonny and brings him home. No matter what he's gone through, she needs to love him unconditionally. Do not let her be selfish...like I was."

Phil dropped Alena's hand and took a step back; she was confessing to him. "Alena, I..."

She gave him a sad smile. "Phil, you don't have to say anything. I know that our time has passed. All I am saying is please ensure Jessie remains focused. That's all."

Phil studied his ex for a moment, then relaxed. Nodding subtly he held her gaze. "I understand."

"Phil, come here." Jessie called from the other room, breaking the awkward thickness in the air between the two adults.

Alena smiled, then turned back to finish cooking. "Go help her, Phil. I'll finish up in here and join you both momentarily."

Joining Jessie in the front room, Phil took a seat next to her on the couch in order to get a better look at the laptop.

"What was that all about?" Jessie asked when she saw Corbin's faint nervousness.

Shaking his head, he replied. "Nothing. Just talking about old times. What did you want to show me?"

Jessie eyed him for a moment, then shrugged it off. "Here's some of the hardcopy documents I took." Jessie handed him a bunch of excel spreadsheets. "Any ideas?"

Sifting through the handful of documents, Phil said, "Invoices. What about them?"

"Shipping invoices." Jessie said. "Specifically payment invoices from a McManus International. Ever heard of it?"

Phil shook his head. "No. Should I have?"

"I don't know, it could be legit, but something is telling me this might be important."

Alena came in and handed each a plate of roasted beef and dumplings smothered in gravy.

"Thanks." Jessie said, the aroma of the traditional Czech dish immediately setting her stomach growling.

"Enjoy." Alena said as she refilled their wine glasses and sipped on her own.

"Alena, have you ever heard of a shipping company called McManus International?" Jessie asked.

The Czech woman thought for a moment, then frowned. "No, I cannot recall such a name. However, I did not deal with the contracted companies very often while I was in office. My staff fulfilled those duties."

"Nothing in the news or media? Not a popular company?" Phil asked.

"Not that I am aware of."

Phil nodded and leaned back as he examined the invoices. "See what you can find online about it, Jess."

Before she knew it, Jessie had finished eating, barely noticing how quickly she inhaled the delicious dish while she searched the internet for McManus International. Setting her plate down, she saw that Phil had also finished and was back to scanning the invoices.

"Here's some background on McManus International." Jessie read from the screen. "Founded five years ago by the young Entrepreneur, Ian McManus, McManus International is a worldwide shipping company. It started off as a small moving company with only three trucks and twenty employees, but within two years had expanded to most of Western and Eastern Europe, with over a thousand employees and fleets of vehicles. Within five years, McManus International maintained offices in almost every European country as well as offices in Japan, Thailand, Australia, Egypt, Yemen, Brazil, and North America. It expanded its portfolio from ground transport to include sea and air transport and shipping. Just last year World Freight and Cargo, a subsidiary of McManus International and based out of Baltimore, won a multi-million dollar competitive bid contract with the Department of Defense to ship foreign military sales equipment from the United States to countries that were purchasing the equipment and vehicles."

Phil whistled as Jessie finished reading. "That's a lot to accomplish in very little time. Any info on this Ian McManus?"

"Hold on a sec," Jessie said as her fingers glided over the laptop, entering keystroke after keystroke. "Here we go. Ian McManus, twenty-six, self-made millionaire by the age of twenty-four, founded McManus International. Educated at Cambridge, studying business and marketing with a second degree in foreign policy affairs."

The picture of McManus was that of a young, handsome man with dark blonde hair and sharp hawk like features. The photo was from a charity ball in Holland the year prior and showed McManus with a pretty woman on his arm as his perfect smile shone for the cameras. Jessie read the caption, "Ian McManus donates 100,000 Euro to the Children's First Charity which supports missionary work in third world countries in Africa and the Middle East. Prompts the furthering education of children and provides instructions to village leaders on producing clean water, providing healthy food alternatives, and education of sexual activities to reduce unwanted pregnancies and the spread of sexually transmitted diseases."

"He sounds like quite the philanthropist." Alena stated.

"Sure does," Phil muttered as he scratched the side of his face. "So why is my gut telling me this guy isn't as squeaky clean as he appears?"

"Mine too." Jessie nodded.

Phil leaned forward and studied the picture, his brow furrowing in thought as he did.

Jessie observed his reaction, "What is it?"

"He looks familiar somehow." Phil mumbled.

A knock at the door interrupted the trio. Phil motioned for everyone to be silent and pulled his HK from his holster. He motioned for Jessie to do the same, but stay seated. She nodded. Standing he waved at Alena to answer the door while positioning himself off to the side of the entrance.

"Who is it?" Alena asked, working to keep her voice even. She glanced at Phil who had his back pressed against the wall, his arm cocked at a ninety degree angle, firearm in hand, and thumb on the hammer.

"You know." The voice replied.

Phil nodded at Alena and she opened the door. Martinek stepped inside and felt Phil's pistol against the side of his head. When he heard Phil cock the hammer he asked, "Is this how you greet old friends?"

"You said you were going to call first." Phil replied. "What changed?"

"The two bodies I left in an alley off of Wenceslas Square." Martinek replied as his eyes moved to glance at Phil. "I figured it was safer if I just went for a stroll and somehow ended up here. Do not worry, old friend, I wasn't followed. Whoever sent those goons probably thinks they are still tailing me."

"I see," Phil replied. He jerked his head and Martinek stepped inside. Phil decocked his pistol and holstered it. Alena quickly shut the door, setting the bolts in place. "Thanks for coming."

"I do not see you in years and you stick a gun to my head and say thanks for coming?" Martinek grumbled. Jessie watched as the two men stared each other down, then Martinek smiled and embraced Phil in a quick hug, the two men slapping each other on the back. "Good to see you again, Corbin."

"Likewise, Martinek." He nodded at Jessie, "You two have already met."

"Yes, young Miss Bannon is quite like her father." Martinek smiled then leaned over and gave Alena a kiss on each cheek. "Ma'am."

Alena flushed then motioned for everyone to sit down. Taking a seat, Martinek tossed the small gym bag he carried to Phil who sat down and opened it. "Everything Miss Bannon requested." He winked at the redhead, "I told you I would get it all. I even included a few items Miss Bannon didn't request."

"Thanks, Viktor." Phil replied and set the bag down. "This should come in handy."

"Do I want to know what is going on that brings you and Miss Bannon here to Praha?" Martinek asked. Jessie found the man's accent quite charming and his gruff, yet sly demeanor made him fit right in with men like Corbin and her father. _'No wonder they get along so well.'_ Jessie thought as she watched the two men interact.

"You know anything about an Ian McManus?"

Martinek's face soured at the mention of McManus, "He is as slimy as a snake as you Americans say."

"I think it's slippery as an eel." Jessie offered.

Martinek huffed, "Either way, he is dirty. However, we have no proof."

"What's his deal?" Jessie asked as Phil rummaged through the bag.

"We believe he uses his company as a means to transport illegal and stolen merchandise throughout the continent and overseas. Here in Praha, the local police force has seen in upbeat in illicit drugs and stolen weapons coming into the city. Remember Major Horak of the Praha Police?"

Phil nodded, looking up at his friend from the gym bag.

Martinek shook his head, "Shot in the back of the neck during a sting operation. The firearm used was traced all the way back to your country; reported stolen six years prior from a home in Indianapolis. Horak died before the ambulance arrived."

Phil's face saddened, "I'm sorry, Viktor. Horak was a good man."

"He was." Martinek nodded and saw Alena nod as well. "We were able to trace a number of shipping containers that arrived in Bremerhaven the year prior from America with cargo from Chicago and other cities in that area to include Indianapolis. The containers were downloaded on to McManus International trucks then driven to their destinations. All appeared fine at first glance, however upon further examination of the paperwork the weights between Bremerhaven and Pilsen, the containers final destination, changed even though no deliveries were recorded."

"Interesting." Jessie mumbled.

"But since there was no proof of anything more than a clerical error McManus only received a fine. We've been keeping an eye on the company since, but McManus is being careful."

"Nothing further?"

"Nothing that I can prove," Martinek sighed. "My superiors think I am chasing ghosts, but those weapons and drugs came from somewhere and McManus International has generated huge capital and has won multiple contracts throughout the world, more so than a company as young as it is should."

"You think the income is coming from smuggling?" Phil asked.

"It's possible." Martinek shrugged.

"So McManus transports illegal merchandise hidden amongst his normal cargo. He's made food deliveries to Rubenstein's restaurant more often than one would expect an establishment like that would need. He's probably delivering items for The Consortium that Rubenstein distributes." Jessie mused.

Sitting up, Phil handed an invoice to Jessie, "Look at this. This is an invoice for three containers originating at the port in Baltimore."

Jessie shuddered when Phil mentioned Baltimore, but she brushed it off. "Okay."

"Look at the dates," Phil said and pointed at the area on the invoice, "The containers left the United States just days after we discovered the traffickers' location in Pennsylvania. My guess, Jonny was already in route to Baltimore by the time we found you."

"We never had a chance of finding Jonny there, did we?"

Phil wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Meeting Alena's gaze, Phil nodded slowly, reminded of Alena's words to him in the kitchen earlier in the evening. He gave his goddaughter a kiss on the top of the head and said, "We'll find him, Jess."

Jessie sniffed quietly, then pulled away from Phil. "I know we will."

"Here's the rub, though." Phil continued. "The ship these containers were on was scuttled by members of The Consortium. They sank the vessel to cover up taking Jonny and another captive. The ship and therefore the containers never arrived in Bremerhaven, yet these documents say they did."

"What does that mean?" Martinek asked.

Phil answered. "It means McManus is part of The Consortium. They forged these documents to make it appear that the containers arrived. They probably did it as a countermeasure to cover up the sinking of the vessel. Any idea where we can find this McManus character?"

Martinek nodded, "As a matter of fact, yes. He is attending a fundraiser ball in Munich the evening after tomorrow."

Phil smiled, "So, Jess, you ready to attend a ball?"

"I'll need something to wear." Jessie grinned. "Something that's elegant, but also lets me get to my handgun quickly and easily."

Phil laughed, "Always thinking tactically. Viktor, can you relay to your people that I-1 will be operating in the area that night?"

"I will let them know. My people will not move on McManus without strict orders from myself."

"Thanks." Jessie breathed.

"Of course," Martinek stood. "I've stayed long enough. I will be in touch. Good luck in Munich, my friends."

Corbin and Martinek shook hands again before Martinek departed.

Settling into an armchair next to the couch, Alena smiled. "Well, now we head to Munich."

"We?" Phil shook his head. "It's too dangerous for you to come, Alena."

"Nonsense," Alena waved her hand. "I can travel freely without fear of being identified and especially in Germany. And unless you plan to help Jessie shop for her evening gown..."

Grinning, Jessie eyeballed Phil alongside Alena. She found herself delighting just a smidge in his discomfort of being stared down by the two women.

Finally, Phil raised his hands, "Fine. In fact it might work in our favor. We could pass ourselves off as a family of tourists."

"Even though I look nothing like either of you." Jessie added jokingly.

"You're adopted." Phil smirked. "Get over it."

Jessie laughed.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 **Author's Notes: Again, a special thank you to Goddess Evie for her help with parts of this chapter. She makes this look easy!**

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Stepping through the door that connected the shared suites, Jessie tried not to beam too much. It was a next to almost impossible task when she saw the proud looks on both Alena's and Phil's faces; acting like surrogate parents in the absence of Jessie's real mother and father.

"How do I look?" Twisting her hips, Jessie flaunted the beautiful designer gown that she and Alena had managed find in her size. The deep, forest green material accented her fiery red hair and made her own green eyes pop with a shimmering brilliance that revealed her intelligent, yet daring nature. Strapless, the dress hugged her upper body, the sweetheart neckline cutting deeper than Jessie was used to, showing off more of her body than she normally would have. Fanning out at the waist, the hem of the dress brushed against the floor, covering the black pumps she wore. At Alena's insistence, Jessie sported some of the finest jewelry from the former President's personal collection, brought with them on the trip from Prague. A studded diamond bracelet encircled her left wrist and matching earrings swayed gently from her ears. The necklace was two-fold. A real diamond necklace, worth more than her car Jessie assumed, hugged her neckline, the bottom of the intricate and beautifully designed piece resting on her upper chest, just inches from the top of her cleavage. But Phil had modified the necklace and Jessie had watched her mentor delicately remove two of the diamonds, wedging a microscopic camera, courtesy of Martinek, in their place.

If she hadn't have felt gorgeous enough, Alena had insisted Jessie wear a light coating of makeup to help accentuate her delicate features. The Czech woman had also assisted Jessie with her hair. It was half swept up in an intricate mass of curls, rhinestones shining throughout her red locks to match her jewelry. The other half hung down over one shoulder in soft ringlets, bright against her creamy skin and the dark green of her dress.

"Amazing, my dear. Simply stunning," Alena proclaimed. Her hands were clasped together in front of her mouth while taking in the site of the young Bannon woman. "Our angel would be head over heels right now if he saw you."

The mention of Jonny caused Jessie a pang of internal guilt. Her she was, dressed in a beautiful gown and about to attend a societal ball while the love of her life was still out there somewhere suffering through who knew what kind of pain. But as hard as it was, Jessie shook the thoughts of Jonny from her mind, only temporarily however, in order to focus on the mission at hand.

And that mission was to make contact with Ian McManus and see what information Jessie could get him to reveal in regards to The Consortium.

"I'm still not liking this plan," Phil muttered while checking the read out of Jessie's camera on his smartphone.

Jessie frowned at her godfather, even if he was looking as handsome as she'd seen him as of late. He was dressed in a well-fitted black suit complete a five button vest. He wore a pale purple dress shirt; black leather belt and around his neck was a dark, rich purple tie. Black, polished dress shoes that looked costly, but comfortable adorned his feet. He wore an expensive silver watch on his left wrist, His firearm was tucked away, secured in concealed carry holder on his right hip. Whenever he finally donned his suit jacket, black to match his pants and vest with a purple handkerchief folded and tucked into the pocket, the weapon would be hidden completely. She also noticed that he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Looking back, Jessie found that she couldn't remember if he'd been wearing it at all since this whole ordeal started.

"Relax, Phil," Jessie sighed, trying not to roll her eyes. "There's going to be hundreds of people here tonight and there's no way you can cover the area by yourself, even if you were one hundred percent, which you are not. Between the three of us, we can be sure we locate McManus in order for me to move in on him."

"I'd feel better just sticking a gun in the small of the guy's back and forcing him up here so we can question him," Phil grumbled.

Jessie saw the look Alena gave him and he quickly snapped his mouth shut.

 _'You don't mess with a former President. It doesn't matter how intimate your relationship may have once been.'_ Jessie laughed in her head.

And speaking of the former President, Jessie couldn't help but gleam about Alena's stunning beauty. Jessie may have believed that her outfit for the evening brought out her inner beauty, but looking at Alena, Jessie knew the woman was the epitome of elegance and grace.

 _'No wonder Corbin was smitten by you all those years ago.'_ Jessie thought as she watched the woman move about the suite with an air of dignity of someone who had spent the better part of her adult life rubbing elbows the society's political and upper class elites.

Alena's floor-length gown was all lace. The fitted bodice was a creamy ivory, with a boat neck and sleeves that hit just below her elbows. Beneath the ivory lace a darker nude could be seen forming a sweetheart neckline, and that same dark nude lace made up the loose skirt. A matching belt cinched in her waist, and she wore strappy heels that peeked out beneath the long skirt. Alena had kept her jewelry sparse, a pair of opal earrings shimmering at her ears and nothing else, and her short brown hair was pulled back into a simple but elegant chignon. Jessie thought Alena looked as beautiful and stately as ever, but Alena had assured Jessie the look was quite understated, and that nobody was going to notice her with Jessie in the room.

Picking up her matching hand purse, Jessie felt the reassuring weight of her HK USP Compact that was safely tucked away inside. She'd have preferred having the weapon concealed on her person, but her gown just did not allow for both concealment and easy access. So she'd opted on the hand purse as the next best alternative.

Alena was unarmed. She'd stay at Corbin's side throughout the night, only straying from him if absolutely necessary. It was the compromise the former Czech President had to make in order for Phil to even allow her to be part of the operation. Alena Stasny was one of the most strong willed and respected women Jessie had ever had the fortune of meeting, but at this moment, this was Corbin's operation. Alena might be able to sweet talk the I-1 Director or silence him with a sharp look, but at the end of the day, he could hold his own against Alena in a battle of wills and when it came to covert operations, he'd win every single time.

"Put this in your ear." Phil stated, handing small communication devices to both Jessie and Alena. "It should fit snugly. You'll be able to feel it, but it shouldn't be too uncomfortable."

Mimicking him, Jessie placed the ear piece as directed, choosing the side where her hair that was down could cover it, providing a bit of extra concealment.

"Your microphone is in your necklace, Jess. To activate it, press your finger to the clasp on your bracelet."

"This is some real high tech spy equipment." Jessie grinned.

With a frown, Phil shook his head. "I prefer not to use that term. My Agents and I are Intelligence Operatives and Officers, not spies."

Jessie's lips curled downward, visibly distraught. "Sorry, it was just a joke."

Phil appeared unfazed by Jessie's look, dead-set on his stance, until Alena gave him a slight bump on the shoulder blade, followed by a scolding look.

"Nebuďte tak tvrdý. Ona je mladá žena, ani jeden z agentů. Je nervózní a potřebuje pomoct, ne ji kárat za vtip."

Jessie had no idea what Alena had just said, but from the tone of her voice and the look of acquiescence she received from Phil, it was clear that he had understood. With a sigh, he looked at Jessie. A little smile pulled at one of the corners of his mouth, "I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't mean to come off like that. I'm as nervous about this op as you are."

"Apology accepted," Jessie shot back, wearing her best poker face. She couldn't hold the look, however, she never could stay upset with her godfather for very long. With a grin, she gently wrapped her arms around his waist, careful not to smear his vest with her makeup. She felt his stomach muscles contract, a sign that his sutures were still bothering him. "Let's just get down to the ball and get this over with, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," Phil nodded, pulling her away from him, he held the redhead at arm's length, his hands resting gently on the tops of her shoulders. "You know, Jessie, your parents would be amazed at not only how resplendent and dazzling you look, but by your maturity and grace as well. I know I'm proud as hell to look at you right now and call you my goddaughter."

"Okay, you can knock that off." Jessie blushed. Phil responded with a smirk, dropping his hands. Jessie watched him shrug into his suit jacket, pulling on the lapels to straighten the garment along his shoulders and back, making sure his firearm remained hidden.

With a wink, he nodded for Jessie to grab her hand purse as he offered his arm to Alena, who gladly took it. "Now, princess, let's get you to the ball."

She blushed a second time. Positioning her hand purse in a loose, but comforting hold, she stepped towards the door. "I'll head down. Wait five minutes then follow."

Phil cocked his head and smiled. Alena leaned against him, the palm of one of her hands resting comfortably on his forearm. Glancing at the woman then back at Jessie, he chuckled. "Who's the one in charge here?"

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Jessie spied Phil and Alena in the corner of the ballroom; the duo mingling as if they were invited guests that were meant to be there. From what she could gather, no one had keyed in on Alena's true identity which was a blessing for the group; it made their work considerably easier. However, she had observed a few men eyeing the beautiful woman, but Corbin's presence seemed to deter them from approaching the former President. And Alena's presence also held the handful of women at bay that Jessie had overheard making racy comments about her godfather; comments that made Jessie blush considerably.

' _These are some horny women for sure.'_ She thought.

She couldn't help but smile to herself; wondering how in the world their cover hadn't yet been blown.

Gliding across the floor, she made a show of being utterly alone. Two men zeroed in on her and made their way towards her.

"Now what is a beautiful woman such as yourself doing all alone?" One of the men asked. His smooth accent matched his smooth demeanor. Jessie looked away, making a show of acting shy. He was handsome. Dressed in a black tuxedo, his dark hair was slicked back on his head, his olive skin accenting his gleaming white teeth as he smiled hungrily at her.

"Oh," Jessie stammered, not really sure what to say. At that moment, she heard Phil's voice in her ear.

' _Get rid of him.'_ Phil stated. His tone reminded Jessie of her father, making her curious as to the source of Corbin's dislike for the man.

She didn't have to. Another man shouldered his way in between the man and his friend. "Is this man bothering you?" He asked.

Jessie couldn't believe it. It was Ian. He had found her. "Oh, no." Jessie squeaked innocently.

"I saw her first, Ian." The man grumbled, but backed off when McManus gave him a stern look.

"There are plenty of other women here that I'm sure would be more than happy to swoon over your clichéd pick-up lines, Antonio." Ian replied, authority bleeding into his words.

With a grunt, Antonio and his friend departed in search of easier prey.

When they were out of earshot, Ian smiled at Jessie, "Forgive those brutes, my dear. I do not even know why they are here. Are you sure you are alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you…."

"Ah, where are my manners," Ian picked up on Jessie's pause. With a slight bow, he continued, "My name is Ian McManus and this is my fundraiser event. And you are?"

"Jessica Smith." Jessie gave her cover name.

"Miss Smith, it is an honor to meet you. Are you here alone?"

"I am. My date fell ill, but he insisted I attend."

"Ah," Ian looked disappointed. "Forgive my intrusion then, I did not know you were taken. Whoever he is, I hope he recovers from his illness, he is a lucky man."

"Oh, it's not like that at all." Jessie shot in, perhaps too quickly. "He's just a friend."

"So it would not be uncouth of me to ask if you would like to have a drink with me? Maybe a dance if you are up to it later?"

"Of course not. I'd be delighted." Jessie nodded.

"Then please, Miss Smith," He offered his arm to her. Taking it, Ian guided her towards the bar.

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"What the hell?" Phil muttered as a figure from his past appeared on the screen of his cell phone.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Alena asked, peering down at the screen. Tucked into one of the far corners of the ballroom, the pair was staying out of sight. Alena's arms were entwined through Phil's left arm, keeping his firing arm free just in case.

"Jessie, pan over to the bar." Phil spoke into his mike, ignoring Alena's question.

Jessie didn't reply, but did as he instructed, bringing a group of men into her view and onto Phil's phone.

"Him." Phil grumbled as the image on the screen correlated with Jessie's movements. "The blonde in the tuxedo. Fuck."

"The one with the ponytail? God, why do men think ponytails are sexy?" Alena joked, but she was concerned by Phil's reaction. They watched Jessie move closer to the target.

"Jessie, abort. Get out." Phil ordered. Looking up from the screen, he tried to find her in the crowd, but the throng of guests was thick and he couldn't see across the ballroom.

"Phil, what is going on? Please, talk to me." Alena breathed. Her hand clenched his forearm.

"I should have known," He stated through gritted teeth. "I should have known that son of a bitch was still alive."

Slipping the phone into his pocket, he looked at Alena, "Stay here."

"Phil, what are you doing? Talk to me. What is it?"

"Jessie has to get out of there. This could be a trap." Phil growled. "That man is an international criminal who shouldn't be alive. I knew Ian looked familiar, he's that man's son." Phil finally looked at her. "If they discover Jessie's identity, they'll kill her."

"Who is he?" Alena asked.

"Lucius Kreed."

Phil took a step forward, intent on getting Jessie out before she approached the man. Two men broke off from a group of partygoers, cutting off the Director's path. They were the men that had approached Jessie earlier.

Phil pushed Alena behind him. The man that had spoken to Jessie brushed his tuxedo jacket aside, revealing a pistol tucked into his cummerbund. Phil could just make the end of the suppressor jutting out from the bottom of the fabric. "Please come with us, Mister Corbin. Do not make a scene. We have orders to shoot you and Ms. Stasny if you do."

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Ian guided Jessie to the bar, weaving the way through the crowd of pretentious businessmen and snobby women. Some of the younger women gave Jessie snotty looks as she passed, their displeasure with Ian's choice of companion plain as day upon their faces. The man that Phil alerted on lounged at the bar. He was tall and slender, with flowing blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. His tuxedo was expensive and he sipped a glass of scotch that Jessie assumed was higher than top shelf.

"Father," Ian said as the older Kreed turned. "I'd like you meet Miss Jessica Smith."

Kreed smiled. Jessie felt the man's beady eyes studying her with an intensity that made Jessie cringe. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Smith. I am Lucius Kreed."

"A pleasure to meet you, Sir." Jessie nodded. She picked up on Kreed's confidence and creepiness that oozed out of him from every pore.

"May I ask how you've come to be acquainted with my son?"

"We only just met." Jessie replied, "He's the only young man in the room worth knowing."

Kreed smiled, while Ian beamed at the boost to his ego. "Would you care for a drink, Miss Smith?"

"Thank you. I would." Jessie replied.

Kreed motioned for the bartender, "Champagne for three. Once again my son has made a fine selection. You are quite stunning, Miss Smith."

Jessie cringed inwardly at the use of the word "selection"; it reminded her of her real mission. These men were part of The Consortium and more than likely knew where both her father and Jonny were located.

Drinks in hand, Kreed raised his saucer, "To my son, Ian, and Miss Smith. Even though you both just met, I can already tell this is going to be an interesting relationship."

Jessie wasn't sure how to take the man's proclamation, so she smiled innocently and sipped her champagne.

"If you two will excuse me, I have some business to attend to." Kreed set his saucer down. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Smith."

"The pleasure was all mine, Mister Kreed." Jessie replied.

With a nod to his son, Lucius left. Jessie's eyes followed, watching as Kreed stopped briefly to speak with a very inebriated older couple before disappearing into the crowd.

Finishing his drink, Ian set the saucer down on the bar, "It is quite stuffy in here. Perhaps you would care to accompany me outside for some fresh air?"

"I'd like that." Jessie placed her empty champagne saucer on the bar. Ian hooked his arm into hers and led her towards the hotel's lobby.

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Corbin didn't like what was happening. Kreed's men led him and Alena out of the ballroom. A crowd lingered in the hall, but as their group moved further away from the event, the gaggles of people thinned out. By the time they reached the end of the hall, they were alone.

"Into the stairwell." Antonio ordered.

"You're making a mistake." Phil growled.

To make his point, Antonio shoved Phil hard in the back, pushing him into the stairwell door. "Shut up and do as you're told." He withdrew his pistol, his partner doing the same.

"At least let Ms. Stasny go." Phil said when he stepped into the stairwell. "She's got nothing to do with this."

"She's involved. That is her problem. Now go. Down."

Another shove forced Phil down the stairs, they were being led to the basement. Scenarios ran through his mind and none of them good. He had to act or else they were dead.

"Again, you're making a mistake, pal." Phil stated when he'd reached the lower landing.

"I said…" Antonio started.

Phil didn't wait for his captor to reach the floor; he attacked. Spinning, he rotated his body, his hands clamping down on Antonio's wrist and throwing the younger man into his partner. Alena gasped as Phil pushed her back and out of the way.

Kicking his foot out, Phil connected with Antonio's groin. The gunman let go of his pistol, his hand instinctively reaching for his wounded private parts while he staggered and slipped down the last few steps. Grasping the silenced weapon, Phil spun it in his hands, aimed it at Antonio and fired two rounds into his chest, a third into the man's forehead for good measure.

Acquiring his next target, Phil saw the other man was down; his legs pinned to the floor by his dead compatriot. The man froze, but only for a moment.

"Don't do it." Phil spat.

The gunman had his orders. He raised his pistol to fire, but he never stood a chance. Phil fired; the silenced rounds slamming into the man's exposed torso. Phil placed a round in the second man's head as well.

It was over within seconds.

Looking at Alena, he saw shock and fear on the woman's face. "Are you okay?"

She tore her eyes away from the men Phil had just killed and nodded, "Yes, yes. I think so."

Phil dropped the gun onto the dead man's chest. "Come on. We have to get to Jessie."

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Outside, Jessie shuddered; the brisk evening air sweeping across her bare shoulders. She was surprised that Ian did not offer his coat as they descended the luxury hotel's impressive stairs.

"It is a little cool this evening, Ian." Jessie stated as they reached the bottom of the steps. She noticed that the valets were gone; something wasn't right.

"Do not worry, we will only be out here for a moment." Ian stated. He dropped her arm and stepped away from her, a sly grin upon his face. Every muscle in Jessie's body tensed; her instincts screaming that something was amiss.

A figure emerged from behind the edge of the darkened steps; Kreed. The older man strode forward an evil grin upon his face. "What an interesting conundrum we find ourselves in tonight. Would you not agree, Miss Bannon?"

"Excuse me?" Jessie's surprise was genuine. She kept her eyes on Kreed while her fingers slowly moved to unclasp her purse. "You must have me mistaken with someone else."

"Hardly, Miss Bannon." Kreed shook his head, Ian joining his father at his side. "You are the daughter of Race Bannon. Perhaps your father should have ensured I was actually dead when he destroyed my compound in Greenland."

While he spoke, a black BMW sedan pulled up. The driver exited, stepping towards Jessie. A second bodyguard exited from the passenger seat. Jessie catalogued the movements of the men, specifically which hands they favored. The second man stepped to the rear door of the sedan, opened it, but remained in place, blocking Jessie's view of the interior of the vehicle.

"Now if you would be so kind as to join me in my car as we have much to discuss, Miss Bannon." Kreed offered with a smile. "Please, do not make the undignified attempt at causing a scene. It would be quite beneath you, Jessica."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Jessie stammered, taking a step backwards.

"You are your father's child that much is for certain. I can see he has taught you well, but not well enough. However, you will soon be joining him and young Master Quest, I have no doubt."

"What are you going on about?" She slipped her hand into the purse.

Kreed snapped his fingers. The second bodyguard, stoic and silent reached into the backseat of the sedan, a moment later he pulled Estella into view. Jessie's eyes went wide, her hand paralyzed in place. Estella, bound and gagged, struggled in the gorilla's grasp, but to no avail. When her eyes fell on her daughter, she froze. With a snort, the bodyguard pushed the older redhead into the arms of his employer. Kreed's arm circled Estella's waist, pulling the woman's back into his body. Jessie inhaled when Kreed produced a large handgun from beneath his tuxedo jacket. He didn't point it at Estella, instead keeping it low and to his side.

Jessie's nose turned up in disgust when Kreed buried his head into the side of her mother's neck and inhaled. "Oh Estella, this moment is even more wonderful than I imagined it would be. The scent of your fear is intoxicating."

"Unhand her, Kreed." Jessie shouted. She took a step forward, her hand once again sliding into her purse. She paused when her mother shook her head vigorously.

"Why would I do that, Miss Bannon? I am at the advantage here. Now, get into the car or else your mother shall pay the price for your refusal." To make his point, Kreed pressed the barrel of his weapon into Estella's side.

"You won't get away with this, Kreed." Jessie spat.

"Something you do-gooders always profess when you are at a disadvantage. You think I don't know about your confederates? They are being eliminated as we speak. You are alone, young Jessica."

Jessie gasped. In one smooth motion, she grasped her HK USP Compact. Letting her purse fall to the ground, the weapon came free and as she raised it towards Kreed and his son. Her left thumb pressed against the bottom of bracelet, keying the mike that was hidden within her necklace. "Phil get out of there. It's a trap!"

"I fear it is too late for Agent Corbin and his friend, Miss Bannon." Kreed laughed evilly. "Perhaps in her final moments Ms. Stasny regretted choosing such a dangerous man to share her bed with. As it has only gotten her killed." He tilted his head and smirked as he added, "I hope he was worth it."

"Liar!" Jessie screamed. Her arm tensed, finger curling around the trigger, she pointed the firearm at Kreed, but hesitated. She couldn't risk hitting her mother. In a flash, she readjusted her aim towards Ian and fired.

Lucius and his son dove in opposite directions, Kreed pulling Estella down with him. A hand smacked down on Jessie's shoulder, meaty fingers digging into her exposed flesh. Dropping to a crouch and twisting, she broke the brute's hold. She'd been keeping a watchful eye on the man ever since he exited Kreed's automobile, knowing he'd come up behind her. Her move seemed to confuse him, but Jessie didn't care. Taking advantage of his momentary shock, she stuck her pistol into his groin and fired. As the round tore the man's genitals to shreds he only had a second to cry out in pain before he collapsed to the pavement.

Springing to her feet, Jessie's eyes darted about, looking for options. Two more bodyguards stepped out of the shadows to converge on the redhead. Raising her weapon at the closest goon, her finger curled around the trigger and squeezed; the round missed. Jessie's arm had been wrenched upward. With a sneer she turned and found Ian latched onto her bicep. Spinning, she kicked a leg out and threw her startled adversary to the ground. The bodyguards were momentarily stunned, unsure if they should continue their attack on the girl or help their fallen charge. Jessie didn't wait for them to make a decision. She fired again, a round hitting a bald headed thug in the forehead; his neck snapping backwards as he died instantly.

The remaining bodyguard hesitated.

"Get her, you idiot." Kreed yelled as he scrambled back to his feet, still holding Estella in a death grip. He'd been hiding behind the stairs, letting his bodyguards do his dirty work for him.

"Kreed!" A voice shouted from the top of the stairs. Corbin emerged from the hotel, weapon raised. Estella's presence must have caught the Agent off-guard, he stutter stepped and lowered his weapon slightly.

"No!" Kreed hissed, spittle shooting from his lips in anger. His weapon shot upward, aimed straight at the I-1 Director. Kreed fired. Phil ducked and rolled, finding cover behind the low edge of the entrance's stone landing.

Jessie concentrated her focus on the last remaining bodyguard and Ian, confident that Kreed would not harm Estella, instead using the woman as a means to prevent Corbin and Jessie from firing at him; using her as a human shield. As long as Estella was alive, Kreed knew he was safe. Jessie needed to dispatch the remaining goon quickly and subdue McManus so she could then work on saving her mother.

"Give it up, Ian." Jessie started, but the young man's oversized protector lunged forward, snarling as his hands shot towards Jessie's wrists. Spinning as best she could in her pumps, Jessie pivoted backwards just as the thick goon would have rammed into her with all his weight. Off balance, the man staggered and Jessie completed her movement, coming up behind the big man. With a well placed kick out and down, the tip of her heel sank deep into the man's bulky calf. He howled and spat a slew of what Jessie assumed were obscenities in his native tongue. With a grunt, Jessie twisted her leg, breaking the heel off, the majority still buried in the man's flesh. Jessie knew that thugs like this one didn't go down so easily and as the man brushed his jacket to the side to pull his weapon, Jessie reacted, her training and instinct taking over; kill or be killed. Raising her weapon, she placed the barrel inches from the back of the man's head and fired. The round penetrated the base of the bodyguard's skull, just above the spine. Falling dead to the ground, he never even had a chance to scream.

Jessie didn't take a break, she turned towards Ian. The man was rooted in place, eyes bulging wide staring at his dead bodyguard. Jessie watched as the young Englishman's gaze went from his fallen protector to the woman that had killed two men. He made no move to stand. His hands shot upward the moment his eyes met hers. "Don't shoot. I am unarmed, I swear."

"Keep your hands where I can see them." She ordered, her voice dead of emotion. "Roll over onto your stomach."

Ian gulped, but did as she instructed. Hobbling, thanks to her broken heel, she reached the blonde aristocrat in three full strides. She knelt down, pinning the man's neck to the ground beneath one of her knees. She placed the barrel of her USP to his head, "Don't you fucking move, scum."

Ian shook beneath her, but he kept his hands spread out before him.

Her opponent immobilized, the sound of gunshots snapped Jessie from her daze. She'd been so focused on eliminating the threats presented by the bodyguards and McManus, she'd drowned out everything else. Glancing up, she watched Kreed engaging Phil. Kreed's cowardice was clear; he was using Jessie's mother as a shield, preventing Corbin from firing back while unloading a volley of high powered rounds at the Agent. _'Where the hell are the police?'_ She wondered.

Frowning, Jessie watched, looking for any opening she could take to help both her mother and Corbin. Even though Phil had an elevated position, Kreed was successfully keeping him pinned down. The dashing criminal was carrying a much more powerful handgun, a .50 AE Desert Eagle and the vastly superior rounds were tearing chunks of marble and stone from the hotel's facade. Phil didn't dare pop his head up or else Kreed would waste him.

Digging her knee into McManus' neck, Jessie received a groan of pain as she ordered, "Like I said, move and you're dead."

Ian moaned, but remained quiet. "Let my mother go, Kreed, or your son gets it." She shouted during a short lull in the gunfire.

Kreed turned to look at the volatile redhead. With a scowl, he pressed his handgun to the side of Estella's face, just under his jaw. "You won't shoot an unarmed and defenseless prisoner." Kreed challenged. "I on the other hand..."

Jessie watched her mother react to the end of the hot barrel being jammed against her face. Her mother's pain infuriated Jessie.

To drive her point home, Jessie cocked the hammer of her weapon. She felt McManus whimpering beneath her; she smelled urine. With a snort, she shook her head. "You willing to take that chance, Kreed?"

Her challenge seemed to get to the older man. He hesitated briefly. Jessie didn't dare take her eyes off of the man, but she saw movement from her peripheral vision at the top of the stairs. With Kreed's attention focused on her, Phil was able to move. Weapon raised and pointed at Kreed, Corbin made his way down the steps of the glamorous hotel.

"Nowhere to run, Kreed." Phil snarled when he reached the bottom of the steps. "Drop your weapon and let Estella go. It's your only chance to make it out of this alive."

"You wouldn't risk it." Kreed stated, but there was doubt in his words.

Jessie took advantage of the Englishman's hesitation. "Someone didn't do all of his homework, huh, Kreed? If you had, you'd know that Corbin is a marksman. He can take you out without wounding my mother. All he needs is one second to react, if that. The question is, can you react faster than him?"

Jessie saw the man's eyes darting between her and Phil. Corbin remained where he was, weapon raised. He didn't move. He didn't flinch. He simply waited. Jessie could tell Kreed was weighing his chances.

"Don't shoot him." Ian mumbled from beneath Jessie. "I'll tell you what you want to know. I'll tell you where Temple is."

"Shut your trap, Ian." Kreed shouted.

"Give up, Kreed." Jessie stated again. "Give up now and you both walk away alive."

"Fine." Kreed announced after a moment. "I surrender."

"Smart move." Jessie nodded.

Kreed lowered his weapon, his arm loosening from around Estella's waist. Just when Jessie believed the man had been sincere in giving up, Kreed pushed Estella hard in the back. Sending the woman crashing to her knees against the cold cobblestone. His Desert Eagle coming back up, the barrel swinging from Estella to Jessie.

Weapons boomed. Kreed's body lurched from the impact as rounds from both Corbin's and Jessie's firearms tore into the man's flesh. Staggering from the blows, Kreed took a hit from Jessie's USP in the cheek; the round tearing his handsome features to shreds. He hit the ground hard, flat on his back. Arms stretched out to his sides.

"Stay there." Phil ordered the second he stopped firing. Moving forward, Jessie observed him expertly close on their downed nemesis, kicking the weapon out of Kreed's hand. Even from her position, Jessie could tell that Kreed was still alive, but it only last a few heartbeats. Phil kept his weapon trained on the fallen man and shook his head in regret. Kreed tried to speak, but managed only to cough up a mouthful of blood. He took one last breath, then died, his head falling to the side, his body going limp.

Stepping away from the man, Phil went to Jessie. "I've got him." He stated, holstering his firearm. Jessie moved away so Phil could place his knee in the exact spot Jessie's had been. He then reached down and secured Ian's thumbs with one hand, putting a hold on the young man that would cause the Englishman considerable pain if he tried to fight. Ian squealed, but didn't make any move to resist. "Go to your mother."

Jessie nodded. "Careful. He pissed himself."

With a smirk, Phil shook his head. "The tough ones always do."

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The drugs dulled the burning sensation on the side of his face. Eyes half closed, Jonny lounged on the couch in his room, watching Andrew talk up the girl he'd been interested in. Jonny wasn't sure if it was his presence, the drugs, or a combination of the two that gave the younger boy his confidence, but he realized it didn't really matter; the girl was taken by Andrew.

"Hey, Jonny," Andrew stated in between kisses from his new girl.

"Yeah?" Jonny mumbled in response.

"Thanks, bro."

Jonny gave the kid a thumbs up and watched as Andrew stood, heading for the door; the girl attached to him the entire time.

"I'll catch you later, Quest." Andrew grinned.

"Yeah." Jonny replied. He watched his friend depart.

Alone, Jonny headed for his bed, stripping off his shirt, shoes, and pants as he did. Climbing under the covers, he closed his eyes. Thoughts of his redhead filled his mind; he drifted off to sleep within moments.

 _Jessie face was awash with pleasure. Her eyelids fluttering, her lips slightly parted, her hair spread out in trails of blazing red across his bedspread. Jonny lost himself in her look. Rocking his hips, he gently pushed himself in and out while staring into her gorgeous face._

 _Leaning down, he pressed his body to hers, flattening her breasts against his chest, his lips finding her earlobe. Sucking on the tip of her ear, Jonny moaned, "You like that?"_

" _Hell yes." Jessie breathed out in short gasps. Her arms found his back, her fingernails lightly grazing his muscles._

 _Her touch drove him wild. Instinctively he rocked his hips faster, his desires ignited even further as Jessie's fingers clamped onto his shoulder blades, digging into him._

" _You feel so good inside me," She moaned, "don't stop."_

 _Jonny did as she commanded. Each thrust became faster and deeper. He buried his face in her hair, her hands gripping him, pulling him against her as he drove himself further inside his love._

" _I'm almost there." Jessie groaned._

 _Jonny didn't need to hear her say it, he could feel her excitement tightening around him. Grunting he pushed harder than he had before. He felt her hips raising against him. Reaching down, he grasped her firm buttocks, holding her against him, unwilling to let them separate, keeping them as one._

 _Her breathing became short. Jonny turned his head, running his tongue along her neck, tracing a line to her lips. He plunged his tongue into her mouth. Jessie accepted it willingly. He drove deeper, his grunts changing from pleasure sounds to manly groans. Jessie pushed against him, tightening around him. Throwing her head back, their lips separated and she screamed out his name, her nails digging into his back._

 _The pain was intoxicating. Jonny soaked it in, it drove him mad. Jessie's hands still held him, dug into him. He pushed one final time, climaxing harder than he ever had, driven to exhaustion by Jessie's animalistic lust._

" _Jessie," He groaned as he came, pushing his hips against her, spilling himself into her until he had nothing left to give._

 _He collapsed on top of her. Their heavy breathing synching together. He stayed inside her until the tension in her body melted away and their breathing returning to normal. It was only then that Jessie finally let go of his back._

 _Sitting up, Jonny pulled out and looked down at the love of his life. Her body was glistening with sweat; his was too. He ran his hands along her naked torso, her creamy skin shimmering in the moonlight that filtered through the windows. He wanted to take her again right then and there._

" _That was…amazing." He finally said. "Damn, Jessie, you made me come so hard."_

 _Biting her lower lip, Jessie gazed up into his eyes. Once again, he found himself lost in that look. Scooting up, her hands found his thighs, massaging him passionately. "We have all night, Jonny. Why don't we see if we can make it happen again?"_

" _No rest, huh?" Jonny smirked. He was already becoming aroused just staring at her, the craving for him that he saw in her eyes making him insane._

" _Not tonight, Hotshot." Jessie quipped, her hands moving from his thighs to his member, stroking him, assisting him in getting hard once again._

 _Jonny grinned. Leaning forward, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers; they were both ready for round two._

A banging on his door tore Jonny from his dreams. Grunting his displeasure, he pulled the covers from his legs and reached for his pants. He felt a burning on his back, the phantom feeling of the scratches Jessie had marked him with; to Jonny it seemed like a different life.

The banging grew louder.

"Alright." He yelled. "I'll be right there."

Pulling his pants on, he saw that was aroused; his memory of his time with Jessie causing him to physically ache for her touch again. He still felt conflicted, his memories and his body's physical reactions differing from the things he knew about Jessie and her abandonment of him. Rubbing himself as he walked, he tried to make his erection disappear, not wanting whoever was at the door to see him in such a state.

He figured it was Andrew, returning to tell him about his triumphs with his new girl or to score some more drugs. He was surprised when he opened the door and found Anaya Zin standing there instead.

"Anaya?" Jonny blinked.

She pushed into his room without being invited. Turning his body is such a way as to hide himself, Jonny realized it didn't matter anymore. His dreams were already fading as was the arousal within himself they had caused.

"Something's happened." Anaya stated.

"What is it? Is it Temple? Is he alright?"

"Not Temple, he's fine." Anaya stated, relief evident in her voice. Jonny felt the same relief when he heard statement.

"What then?"

"Kreed and Ian."

"What about them?" Jonny asked, not liking the fact that she had woken him to report on Kreed.

"Jonny," Anaya sighed. "I'm afraid things might be starting to unravel. We need to have a plan in the event things start to fall apart."

"Anaya, you're not making any sense. Why do you care about Kreed and Ian?"

"Intelligence One is closing in, Jonny. They found Kreed and Ian. It's only a matter of time till they find us."

"Temple will take care of them." Jonny replied.

"What if he doesn't?"

"Then I will." Jonny scowled. "I couldn't care less about Kreed and his son, but if I-1 Agents converge on us before Temple gets back, I guarantee they'll regret it."

"You're prepared to make that happen?" Anaya asked.

Even in the semi-darkness of the room, Jonny caught her satisfied grin. "More so than I've ever been prepared to do anything in my life, Anaya. If I-1 wants a fight, I say bring it on."

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"Sir, wake up!"

With a snort, Temple got up from his cot. He hadn't been sleeping. The pain that racked his body prevented him from being able to sleep comfortably at the moment.

"What is it?" He barked. He didn't bother to open the door, instead going to the small table where his drugs were placed. Leaning down, he snorted two lines of cocaine up his nose, then reached for his prescription pills, popping the lid off and dumping a number of the pills into his hand. Throwing his hand to his mouth, he titled his head back and gulped the pills down. For good measure, he chased them with a swig from a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

One of Temple's men stepped into the room. He paused when he saw what must have been an extremely black mood spread across his superior's face.

"I asked you a question, man." Temple growled. The drugs were already beginning to take effect.

"We just received word from headquarters. Lucius Kreed was killed."

"What?" Temple shouted. Anger flared through his body at the news, his muscles going tense. The guard took a step backwards from his enraged boss. Temple always struck a menacing stance, but now he was enraged. He was naked from the waist up and his muscles flared, corded veins rippling under his skin. "How?"

"They said it was Intelligence One," The man stuttered. "Director Corbin and…"

"And what? Spit it out or else I'll cut your tongue out and get the report from someone else."

"A redhead. Bannon's daughter. They killed Kreed."

Temple inhaled and exhaled, his hands clenching and unclenching into balled fists. He might not have liked Kreed all that much, but he respected his business associate and the news that he'd been killed by his former friend and a teenage girl sent Temple spiraling into a rage.

Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, he hurled it at his man, who ducked out of the line of fire at the last possible second. Temple gripped the small table and flipped it, not caring about the drugs he tossed in the process. Striding over to his cot, he snatched his handgun from where'd left it. Aiming it at his man, he said, "Where? Where did this happen?"

"In Munich, Sir." The man tried to appear strong, but he shivered visibly, not sure if Temple was going to kill him just for bringing this news.

"That's still far enough away." Temple stated, lowering his weapon.

"Sir," The guard gulped. "There's more."

Rage shone in Temple's eyes. He didn't speak, he just stared down his man. His breathing making his chest heave noticeably.

"Sir," The man stammered, "They have Ian McManus. He surrendered to them willingly."

Temple snarled. His arm shot up in a flash, his man backpedaled, but it did no good. The gun banged. The guard fell. Temple had shot him dead.

Stepping over the corpse of his loyal follower, Temple made his way towards Race's cell.

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 **To Be Continued...**

 **Author's Notes: Czech: "Nebuďte tak tvrdý. Ona je mladá žena, ani jeden z agentů. Je nervózní a potřebuje pomoct, ne ji kárat za vtip."**

 **English Translation: "Do not be so harsh. She's a young woman, not one of your Agents. She is nervous and needs you to be supportive, not chastising her for making a joke."**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"Mom," Jessie's hands shook, the severity of what had just happened rattling her nerves now that it was over. Pulling the gag from Estella's mouth, Jessie helped calm her mother. "Mom, are you okay?"

"Jessie," Estella cried. "my god, what is going on?"

Estella's wrists were bound with thick rope. Jessie's fingers ached, but eventually she was able to loosen the bindings enough for Estella to slip her hands free. The moment she did, both mother and daughter wrapped their arms around each other, rocking, shaking, but thankful that both were relatively unharmed.

"Mom, what are you doing here? Why were you with Kreed? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" The questions flew from her lips.

"I-," Estella started, but the tears overwhelmed her and she couldn't respond. She just cried and held her only child tightly.

Eventually, Jessie heard the commotion that was taking place all around here. The German Polizei had finally arrived, along with a number of Bundeswehr Commandos. Jessie even saw Colonel Martinek, but the Czech man was speaking with Phil and McManus. The Englishman appeared defeated, hanging his head as he stood with his hands cuffed behind his back and Phil holding onto one of his arms.

Polizei were busy cordoning off the area, preventing the startled hotel guests from descending the steps and contaminating the crime scene. Jessie did see Alena at the top of the steps. Martinek and Phil saw her too and the Czech man waved at the officers to allow her to come down.

Jessie helped her mother to her feet, keeping her hands on her, steading Estella's wobbly legs. "You need to get checked out by the paramedics."

Estella shook her head. "I'm okay."

"Mom," Jessie protested.

"What is going on here? Jessie, I don't understand any of this. Why are _you_ here?"

Jessie sighed. She had no idea how her mother had gotten herself wrapped up in this ordeal or how she ended up as Kreed's captive. About to ask, she was interrupted when Corbin came over to them.

"Estella, are you alright?" He asked. His look was one of genuine concern for the woman.

Jessie saw the flash of anger in her mother's eyes. "Mom," She started, but Estella wasn't hearing it.

"How dare you?" Estella spat between tears. She lashed out at Phil, taking her rage out on the man. "What have you done to my daughter? You've turned her into one of your Agents. It's bad enough with Race, but now my daughter too? Asshole!"

Phil took a step back, raising his hands. Estella was on him, her hands balled into fists, pummeling him in the chest and torso. Jessie saw him flinch when Estella hit him in near his stitches.

Grabbing her mother's arm, Jessie tried to restrain her. "Mom, stop! What are you doing?"

"You bastard, Phil. What's the matter with you?" Estella screamed. She was causing a scene.

Phil stood there and took it. Jessie was surprised he appeared so calm, but she quickly realized he was letting Estella wear herself down. Her mother began to lose steam. Her hands went to her face, rubbing the tears vigorously from her cheeks. Jessie loosened her grip on the older redhead, but did not release her completely. She didn't want Estella lashing out again.

"I'm sorry, Estella." Phil stated.

"You damn well should be." Estella muttered.

She shouldn't have been, but Jessie was embarrassed by her mother's outburst. She understood that Estella must be having a difficult time processing all this information, but that still did not give her the right to castigate Corbin for it.

Alena and Martinek came over to join them. Phil nodded to his Czech friends, then addressed Estella again. "I want you to go with Alena and Colonel Martinek. They'll take you to Landstuhl to get checked out. I have people there already. You'll be safe with them."

Estella stared him down. Jessie held her breath. The tension between the two adults was fraying at her nerves. She opened her to break the silence.

She didn't get a chance. Estella stepped forward. Jessie's hold was broken by Estella's deliberate move. Raising her hand, she smacked Phil across the face. It was hard, the crack making Alena gasp and Martinek wince. Phil closed his eyes. Estella stepped back and started to cry again.

"You bastard." She huffed quietly between her tears.

"Mom!" Jessie yelled. She wedged herself between her mother and godfather, arms slightly raised, separating the two adults without actually touching either of them.

Jessie watched Phil raise his head and open his eyes. He wasn't angry, in fact to Jessie, he looked as if he felt he deserved Estella's wrath. Jessie didn't agree.

"Mom, what's the matter with you? He didn't do any of this." Jessie remarked. She found it strange that she was angry with her mother in regards to her treatment of Corbin. She continued, "And what are you even doing here? Why the hell were you with that criminal Kreed?"

Estella tried to speak, but her breath caught in her throat. Alena and Martinek reached out, gently placing their hands on Estella's arms to guide her away.

Phil shook his head at Jessie, a sign to the young redhead to let it go.

"Go with them, Estella." Phil stated. He looked at Jessie and said, "You too."

"No!" Jessie protested when Phil turned and walked away.

"Jessie," Estella yelled when Jessie followed after the Director while ignoring her.

Reaching out, she grabbed Phil's arm, causing him to stop and turn to look at her. "You're not leaving me behind. Not now."

"Your mother needs you." Phil replied.

"Are you saying that you don't? That you don't need me anymore?" She challenged him sternly.

"That's not what I'm saying, Jess." Phil answered.

"Bullshit." Jessie shot back. "Don't take your anger with my mother out on me."

"I'm not angry at Estella, Jessie. But this has gone too far."

"Don't you dare do this, Phil." Jessie remarked.

Phil ignored her and started walking again. Jessie followed and was thankful that he didn't stop her. They approached McManus, who was now being held by two German soldiers.

"Where's Temple?" Phil asked the prisoner. His voice was stern. Jessie found it surprising that the Director could switch his moods so easily.

"You killed my father." Ian grumbled.

Phil nodded at the Germans. The men released McManus and walked away. Phil grabbed the young Englishman by the arm and dragged him towards the corpse of Lucius Kreed. The Polizei had yet to cover up the body.

Jessie stayed in step, observing Corbin's tactics. Standing over the dead man, Phil grabbed Ian by the back of the neck and forced him to look at his father's body.

"That's right. I killed him." Phil growled. He let Ian gaze at the body for a few moments then jerked his head back up and forced McManus to look into his eyes. "I'll kill you too if you don't tell me where Temple is hiding."

"You can't-" Ian started, but stopped.

Jessie saw Phil pull his handgun and discreetly jam it into Ian's torso, using his own body to cover up his actions.

"I'm tired off all of this. I don't give a damn about the consequences at this point." To make his point, he pushed the weapon harder into his prisoner's gut, pulling back the hammer with his thumb. Jessie's heart skipped a beat. Would Phil really kill an unarmed prisoner? Would he risk ruining his career? His life? At this point, Jessie wasn't sure he wouldn't do just that. "Tell me where Temple is. NOW."

Ian's reaction alerted Jessie that he too was afraid that Corbin might actually shoot him. "He's at an abandoned military compound in Westphalia, just east of Dusseldorf. It's an old Nazi Party stronghold. Abandoned for decades. Please, don't-"

Satisfied, Phil grunted. He decocked his pistol and holstered it. He dragged Ian away from his father's corpse. Approaching the soldiers again, Phil shoved Ian into their grasp. The men's Commander walked over.

"I need an assault team." Phil told the officer. Jerking his chin at Ian, he added, "He says the man we're looking for is holed up in an old Nazi complex near Dusseldorf."

A deep voice from behind. "I will go with you."

Jessie turned and saw that Martinek had joined them. Phil shook his head. "I appreciate that, Viktor, but I need you to stay with Alena. Keep her and Estella safe."

Martinek grumbled, but nodded. The German Commander eyed the two men, then said. "My best men and I will join you. Criminals have infiltrated my beloved country, using relics from our shameful past to commit atrocities, just like the evil that once ruled this land. I take that as a personal insult."

Moved by the German's short soliloquy, Jessie admired the man, even if she didn't even know his name.

Phil nodded. "We need a ride too. We need to move out now."

The Commander nodded. "I can have helicopters here in twenty minutes. Go to the roof. You can use some of our gear and weapons."

"Thank you, Commander." Phil replied.

The man nodded and moved off. To Martinek, he said, "The Germans will hold McManus until this is all over. Then you can have him."

"You do not want to prosecute him yourself?"

Phil unbuttoned his vest and started removing his tie. "I don't care about McManus. I have bigger fish to fry."

Martinek grinned. "Acceptable. Good luck, old friend." To Jessie the older Czech said, "Keep Phil here safe, Miss Bannon. Go find your father and your friend."

Phil huffed at Martinek's jest. Jessie nodded. The old Czech intelligence officer turned on his heel, heading back to Alena and Estella.

Phil handed his vest, tie, and watch to her. "Take these upstairs for me. Alena and Viktor will secure our things and take them to Landstuhl with them. You have twenty minutes to change. If you're not on the roof when the birds arrive, I'm leaving you here."

"Got it." Jessie turned to head back inside, but stopped. Looking back at him, she asked, "What about my mom?"

"I'll figure out what to tell her." His gaze scanned the crowd and fell on Estella and Alena; both women were off to the side; Estella being examined by the paramedics. Martinek joined them.

"I'm sorry she slapped you." Jessie offered. "You didn't deserve that."

Phil looked back at her while rolling up his sleeves. With a serious look, he said, "Now you have nineteen minutes."

Jessie took the hint. Without another word she headed back into the hotel to change.

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The ringing of his phone caused Velk to sit up straight in his chair. Dropping the local German newspaper he'd been reading, he fished the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen and saw it was Phil.

Standing, he moved to the far side of Terry's hospital bed and gently shook Karla awake. Matt had attempted to get Karla to check into the local hotel on the military installation, but the woman had refused to leave her boyfriend's side, opting to curl up on the uncomfortable looking love seat in the private room. She reminded Velk that he couldn't guard terry twenty-four/seven on his own either and the two had agreed to sleep in shifts, switching out on the couch that was quite small for Altine and downright unbearable for Velk. The nurses had provided them with blankets and pillows.

Roberts was asleep in his hospital bed.

Karla's eyes blinked and he waved the phone at her as he answered it, keeping the device on speaker.

"Sir? Is everything alright?" He asked when the call was connected.

"Fine. How are things back there? How's Roberts?" Corbin asked.

"He's recovering quickly. Asleep right now." Velk answered.

"Nah-," Roberts slurred, the voices causing him to wake up, but he still appeared loopy from the pain medication.

"Okay, well, he's no longer asleep. Altine is still here too. All is quiet." Velk reported.

"Good. Listen up, you're going to have some new arrivals landing there soon. I need you to meet and secure them. Keep them safe until I call you back. I'm heading out on another op, we think we've got Temple cornered."

"Yes, Sir." Velk nodded.

"Who is coming here?" Altine asked.

"Call Dug. Have him email you File 037, subsection beta." Corbin's directions caused the two younger Agents to exchange confused glances. Phil continued, "Also have him email you File 04R. Pete will know. Those files will identify the people that are enroute to your location."

Velk understood. Phil was being cautious, not wanting to give names over the phone, even though they were secured devices. At this point in the game, Velk knew that taking extra precautions was necessary.

"Understood, Sir. Anything else?"

"Just stay cognizant of your surroundings. I'll call you when I can."

"Got it." Velk said and waited until the call was terminated by Phil.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket. "You know anything about these files?" He directed his question towards Karla. She shook her head.

"File 037 is Doctor Quest's dossier." Terry answered.

Looking towards him, Matt was surprised to find the linguist was coherent and talking; perhaps the drugs were starting to wear off.

"Subsection beta?" Velk pushed.

"Bannon's file. Including information on his family. I don't know the other one though." Roberts answered.

"Alright," Velk blinked a few times. "Let me call Dug and get moving on this."

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Benton's brow furrow with frustration. Setting down the paperwork he'd been studying, he looked up and saw Agent Dugger approaching.

"That look is not encouraging, Doctor." The big Cajun said when he came up next to the table.

They were in one of I-1's medical labs; Benton and Hadji having traveled to D.C. to test their formula on the prisoner, Stephen Hayes. So far the results had been less than positive. Hadji, seated at another workstation, looked up when he heard the men conversing.

"These brain scans taken from Mister Hayes are showing very little change to the damage the drugs have done to his brain." Benton shook his head.

"But there's been some change?" Dugger asked hopefully.

"Not enough to determine if it is caused by my formula or by something else. Whatever The Consortium has concocted it is causing serious damage to these kids' brains. It doesn't help that Hayes has been using other illegal narcotics too. I cannot get accurate readings and waiting for him to complete a detox program could be too late." Sneering, Benton slammed a fist onto the table. "There's just not enough information to know for sure. And the longer Jonny is exposed to this stuff, the harder it's going to be to get him off of it."

"I'm sorry, Doctor." Dugger's tone was sympathetic.

Benton nodded a little. Lowering his voice to prevent Hadji from hearing him, he sighed, "It's not your fault, Agent Dugger. I just keep seeing that other man, Sterns, lying in that bed in a coma. But when I close my eyes, it's not him, its Jonny lying there."

"We'll find him, Doctor. I swear we will and you know we'll do everything we can to help your son recover." He placed a hand on Benton's shoulder for comfort.

Dugger's phone rang. Withdrawing it from the inside pocket of his suit coat, he took a few steps back and answered.

Benton watched the man. Agent Peter Dugger was a long time veteran of Intelligence One. He'd actually been a candidate for the job that Race had gotten to protect Jonny, but not being selected for that position had not affected the man's career. Since Corbin's departure, Benton had been spending quite a bit of time with Dugger and had learned a lot about his personality and his past, both before I-1 and with it.

Born and raised in the poor swamplands of Louisiana, Pete Dugger had suffered through a painful childhood. The oldest of eight brothers and sisters, Dugger had grown up with an alcoholic and abusive father and a submissive mother. His father dominated Pete's early years, but where some might have accepted such a life, Pete did not. Dugger had taken on the role of protector of his siblings while also acting as the man of the house when his father eventually left them for one of his alcoholic, drug addicted girlfriends. When he was old enough, Dugger changed his name, opting for one that would not identify him, and in his mind discriminate against him, as a swampland Cajun.

Growing up in the swamps, Pete learned how to survive off the land and rumor had it that he had once captured and killed a six-foot alligator that had gone after one of his little sisters; snagging and killing the animal with his bare hands. Benton didn't know if the story was true, but from the look of Dugger, he wouldn't have doubted it. Eventually, Pete became a New Orleans Police Officer and one night early in his career, while working in the French Quarter, he stopped a deranged drunk, who had showed up with an assault rifle, from committing a bloody massacre. Pete had talked the man down and resolved the situation without one shot ever being fired. He was hailed as a hero and that act had caught the attention of Intelligence One. Pete had been with the organization ever since. Dugger was a man that dedicated his entire life to helping and protecting others.

Staring at Dugger's back, Benton found that if Race hadn't have been available for the job, he would definitely have been proud to have a man like Peter Dugger guarding his son.

And now, watching Dugger speaking low into his phone, running his other hand through his short cropped hair, Benton could tell that he was frustrated. A few minutes later, Dugger ended his call and stepped back towards Benton.

"No news on Jonny, but Corbin is closing in on Temple. Lucius Kreed is dead too. Did you know that Estella was with Kreed?"

"What?" Benton gasped. "No, I had no idea. She said she was taking a vacation. She'd met someone…but I never bothered to ask for a name. I didn't think it was any of my business. My god."

"Relax, Doctor. It's not your fault." Dugger said, his eyes soft and forgiving. "She's safe now. Corbin sent her and some others to Landstuhl where Agent Roberts is recovering. Velk and Altine are there too. Jessie is fine, she's still with Phil."

Hadji moved to his father's side and wrapped an arm around his father's shoulders. "What now?"

"I have to send Matt some files, but…" Dugger's voiced trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he thought. "You know, I'll take the ass chewing. I can't sit on the sidelines any longer. I'll send the files to Velk through email, but then I'm heading to Germany, Doctor. You can coordinate with Agent Blake in the GOC for-"

Benton cut him off. "No, Sir. We're coming with you."

"I can take an ass chewing for myself, but-" Dugger protested.

"Agent Dugger, are you forgetting who you're speaking with? No one, not even Director Corbin, can stop me and he sure as hell isn't going to lecture me, not after all I've done for I-1 and the Government."

"And they said Race was the ballsy one up there in Maine." Dugger scoffed with a grin.

"Like you, Agent Dugger, I can't sit on the sidelines any longer. Landstuhl has plenty of labs that I can work from to keep perfecting my formula based on Hayes' results. Your doctors here can continue his treatments without me, they have all my notes. My son is out there and you all are putting your lives at risk to find him and bring him home. So I'm going with you."

"As am I." Hadji threw in confidently.

"Corbin's still going to give me hell for not trying to stop you." Dugger injected, but Benton could tell from his tone that the Agent was on his side.

Standing, Benton reached up and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Well if he does, just tell him that I hit you."

A look of disbelief spread across the Cajun's face. Then a smile. "Yeah, he'll believe that one. Alright, let's get moving. I can have an aircraft ready to go in an hour."

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Jessie closed her eyes, counting backwards in her head, the drill helping to ease the knot that sat in her stomach like a rock. It was hot and noisy inside the helicopter. She felt constricted, wedged into a middle seat between two German Commandos. Phil sat across from her. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. Jessie had changed into her street clothes, but Phil was still wearing the pants from his three piece suit and purple dress shirt. The soldiers had given him black combat boots to replace his shoes. He'd decided that getting as much intel from McManus and the Germans was more important than changing his clothes; Jessie didn't blame him. Both Jessie and Phil wore tactical vests. They were slightly different than the vests they normally wore, having to settle on the equipment the German soldiers provided. They'd also both been given gloves, drop leg holsters for their sidearms and H&K G36 rifles, the standard service rifle of the German Bundeswehr, and a compliment of thirty round magazines tucked into the pouches on their vests.

The soldiers were part of an elite special operations unit and each man spoke at least basic English and for Phil's and Jessie's benefits would speak in English during the duration of the operation. A second helicopter carried another squad of the German Commandos.

He tapped the left side of his headset then keyed his mike.

They were on an internal communication net that allowed Phil to speak directly to Jessie without bothering the pilots or the soldiers. "Breathe, Jessie."

Jessie nodded and exhaled visibly. Keeping her eyes locked on Corbin, she couldn't help but notice how much he was sweating; wiping a hand across her brow she realized she was sweating just as heavily.

' _It's really hot in here.'_ She thought.

Phil leaned forward, motioning for Jessie to do the same. She held his gaze while she listened to his words in her headset. "Jessie, this is going to be dangerous. You stay with me at all times. Do not wander off." He reached out and patted the butt of the rifle she had been given, "Only use this in self-defense. Let me and the soldiers handle the engagements. You understand?"

Jessie gave him a curt nod. "I understand."

"You've done great up to this point, but remember to be prepared for anything. We don't know what the conditions will be like and understand that we might not find Jonny or your dad right now. I hope we do, so we can end this and all go home, but be prepared that we might not."

Jessie nodded again.

"The pilots will signal when we are in position. Let the soldiers do their thing at that time. They'll be exiting from both sides of the aircraft if possible. That's why we are in the middle. Follow my lead. When we get there if for whatever reason you don't want to exit, then don't. Stay on the aircraft and let us handle it. No one will fault you if stay behind."

"I'm not staying behind, Phil. I can do this." Jessie reassured, not only for Phil's benefit, but to give her own confidence a boost.

Phil nodded in response. The German Commander, seated on Phil's right, nudged the Agent and held up a hand, all five fingers, signally they were five minutes out.

' _Deep breaths, Bannon, deep breaths.'_ She repeated the mantra over and over in her head. _'You can do this.'_

Minutes later, another signal. Two fingers. The doors of the aircraft slid open, bringing a brisk gust of wind swirling thru the compartment; Jessie went from hot to cold in a matter of seconds.

One finger. Phil removed his headset and unclasped his safety harness. Jessie did the same. The soldiers did too. Corbin popped a white earpiece into his ear, connected to the radio on his vest. Jessie followed suit.

The aircraft dropped and hovered. The Commander stuck his index finger into the air, whipping it around. Jessie kept her eyes on Phil. She tried to mimic the serious look she saw on his face. Two Metal bars swung outward on each side of the helicopter, dropping thick corded ropes towards the ground.

 _Inhale. Exhale. Breathe._

The Commander made a fist, pumped it in the air and motioned with both arms to his men. The soldiers moved. Grasping the ropes, they wrapped their ankles and disappeared into the darkness, fasting roping to the ground. The tactic was essential for quick insertions and was extremely dangerous; nothing but a person and a rope. No safety harness, no D-rings attaching her body to the rope. One wrong move, a slipped grip, or a hesitation when exiting would turn Jessie into what she had overheard the soldiers refer to as 'a dirt dart'.

The next group of four exited. All that was left was Jessie, Phil, the troop Commander and one more soldier. The two Germans moved to one side of the aircraft. Phil slung his rifle and went to the other, Jessie followed.

' _Just reach out, grab, and slide. You've done this before, Bannon. Don't look down.'_ She told herself, keeping her eyes on the rope in front of her. _'Yeah, I've repelled before, just not out of a hovering helicopter in the dead of night.'_ Jessie shook her head, expelling the thoughts. _'Focus, Bannon!'_

From the corner of her eye, she saw Phil grab the rope then wrap his ankles around the end. Sliding down, he vanished into the darkness below.

' _Go, Bannon!'_ Jessie's internal voice screamed. _'Do it for dad! For Jonny!'_

She reached out. She grasped the rope. She wrapped her ankles around the bottom. She felt the wind on her body, the motion of the aircraft as it hovered, the whooping of the blades.

She descended into the darkness.

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"Sir!" The guard burst into the room. "Sir, soldiers are entering the compound."

Temple snarled. He knew that dainty Brit McManus would rat him out. Turning from his captor, Temple barked at the guard. "Well, get out there and stop them, you fool! Send out all our forces. Kill them all."

The man nodded and ran back the way he'd come.

Race kept his head down, a deep laugh emanating from his throat. "You're done, Greg. They found you."

"Shut your mouth, Racer!" Greg snapped. Lashing out he cracked Race in the side of the head with his handgun.

Amazingly, the blow didn't knock Race out. Instead he lifted his head to stare down Temple. Blood poured from the fresh gash. "Go ahead and kill me. You're not making it out of here alive. I guarantee whoever is out there has orders to shoot you on sight."

"Let them try." Temple growled. "I'll deal with you later."

Exiting, Temple slammed the cell door shut, leaving Race to bleed.

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Phil's hand was on Jessie's shoulder as soon as her feet hit the ground. Steadying her, he nodded to the redhead to secure her rifle. When they were both ready, the pair traversed the compound's open yard, heading for the building.

Headed for a door inset into the side of the wall, they were only steps away when shots rang out in the darkness.

"Move!" Phil ordered.

Bullets impacted from all around. Gunmen emerged from the shadows around both sides of the building, firing mercilessly at the invading force. Phil fired blindly at a cluster of men and continued running, not stopping to confirm if he'd actually hit any of them.

The Commandos were taking up cover positions wherever they could find them; behind parked vehicles, stacks of crates; whatever would keep the bullets at bay, firing at the enemy with precision and deadly accuracy once they were situated. Muzzle flashes provided faint traces of light and Phil saw the force Commander directing his Commandos to flank the gunmen. Men screamed and fell as they were hit. Phil reached the exterior of the buildings wall unharmed, Jessie coming up next to him at the same time. Two German Commandos were with them as well.

Corbin could hear the girl's heaving breathing even over his own. He gave her a nod of encouragement and watched her tightened her grip on the rifle.

Letting his weapon hang from the quick release strap on his vest Phil stepped in front of the door and pulled a concussion grenade from his vest. Pulling the pin, he raised his foot, kicked the door inward, tossed the grenade inside then ducked back out of the way, hovering over Jessie.

The grenade exploded. Confused shouts rang out from beyond the door.

One of the Commandos entered first. Phil was moving again a heartbeat later, right on the man's six. Jessie on his. Crossing the threshold, Phil kept his weapon raised. Startled gunmen staggered about the hall. Between Phil and the soldier they quickly identified the men as enemy combatants and fired, dropping each one before they could react.

"Breach successful." He stated in the mike on his vest.

As a group, they rushed into the building's hallway, sweeping their rifles ahead of them as they moved. An L corner ahead. A man shot out from around it. Phil and the lead Commando fired simultaneously. The man collapsed under the rain of firepower, his AK-47 clattering to the floor.

"Move up." Phil ordered, his cheek still resting on the butt of the rifle. He felt Jessie hovering at his back. The last Commando was next to her, sweeping his weapon to the rear in the event any gunmen tried to circle around and come up from behind.

A quick peek around the corner. Nothing. Corbin stepped over the downed gunman as the soldier bent down to toss the dead man's rifle away. A closed door was ahead and to the left. Motioning to it, Phil signaled for what he wanted. Approaching the door, the soldier slung his rifle on his back and drew his sidearm. He then grasped the knob in his other hand, turned it, and pushed it open quickly, keeping his hand on the knob while allowing the door to act as a makeshift shield as he entered.

More shouts.

Phil was right behind his lead man. Three men waited for them beyond the door. Weapon ready to fire he yelled, "Drop your weapons."

The gunmen didn't comply. They raised their rifles. The room filled with the sounds of multiple weapons firing at the same time. Phil dropped to a crouch, his soldier doing the same, both avoiding the onslaught of rounds thrown at them from the enemy gunmen. Firing with precision, they quickly dispatched their targets. Each man dropping from being bombarded with multiple shots. Neither Phil nor anyone in his group had been hit.

Corbin stepped completely inside, sweeping the room. The Commandos went to remove any weapons from the dead men as Jessie came up behind Phil to see what had drawn his attention to the corner of the room behind the door. Hiding in the corner, crouched down with her arms over her head was Jade. Phil grimaced.

"Jade?" He breathed. Lowering his weapon, he looked perplexed.

She looked up at him. Standing, she stared into his eyes. Phil had never seen such fright in the woman before. She was shaking; Jade was scared.

"Temple went to Race." Jade stammered when Phil reached out and put a hand on her upper arm to steady her.

"Where?" Jessie asked.

"Next hall over." Jade stated. Her voice wavered, but the look on her face changed from one of fright to relief; relief for being rescued.

Jessie turned to run, but Phil reached out, snagging the back of her vest, pulling her off her feet for a moment.

"No." Phil ordered. "Stay with us."

"My dad is here and Temple's going to kill him!"

"We go together," Phil jerked his head at Jade while reloading his weapon. Signaling the Germans he said, "Let's move, guys!"

Jade scooted into their tight formation, staying behind Phil and next to Jessie.

Moving back into the hall, Phil listened to Jade's whispered directions in his ear as she guided him down the corridors. At the end of the hall was a set of steel double doors.

"Race should be through those doors." Jade stated in Phil's ear. "There's four rooms, two on each side, but I don't know which one Temple has him in."

Phil nodded. The first obstacle was getting through the doors. Moving forward, leaned a shoulder against the breaker bar of the left door; the lead Commando mirrored his actions on the right side.

Through gritted teeth, he ordered. "Stay back and get down. We have no idea what's waiting for us on the other side."

Phil waited till he received nods from the two women and the last man.

Ready, Phil gave the Commando three nods, counting down to when they'd push through the door. When he reached zero, he jerked his head more violently then leaned against the bar.

Sweeping inside, weapon raised, Phil stared down a long hallway. Old filing cabinets lined both sides of the wall with decaying cardboard boxes stacked randomly on top. What must have once been the administrative wing of the complex, it had been converted it into a makeshift prison.

Standing at the far end in front of another set of double doors was a man that Phil had once called a friend, flanked by three of his own men. All four adversaries held AK-47s.

Blinding rage engulfed the Intelligence One Director. "Temple!" He shouted.

"Corbin!" Temple spat back.

Phil didn't order them to drop their weapons. He didn't wait for Temple to act. He just opened fire. With a shout, Temple ducked behind one of his men. Phil's rounds slammed into the startled gunman's lower abdomen, spinning him violently around and to the floor.

The gunman's unfortunate plight had given Temple the seconds he needed. He scurried behind the closest large filing cabinet and returned fire.

Phil found cover just in the nick of time. Looking across the hall, he saw the German soldier had also saddled up behind a smaller cabinet. Looking back, he tried to wave Jessie and Jade backwards, but the two women were already in the hall. Jessie scrambled behind him and Jade and the rear Commando behind the other man.

"Keep your head down and stay pressed against this wall." Phil shouted at Jessie.

More bursts of gunfire forced Jessie back, causing her to tuck her head down against her chest. She gave Phil a nod.

Still in a crouch, Phil leaned out from behind the cabinet and sent a volley of rounds towards Temple. The Germans were engaging the other men.

Temple ducked back, nearly avoiding Phil's rounds.

"Give it up, Temple. You're surrounded." Phil shouted during a very brief lull in the battle.

"Fuck you, Corbin." Temple spat.

Phil shook his head. This wasn't the Temple he remembered; that man was gone. But he couldn't think about that right now.

A sharp yelp drew his attention towards the Germans. The man in the rear had taken a stray round in the lower leg. He fell to his back, but to his credit, he scooted out of the line of fire on his backside then tried to re-engage.

"Fuck." Phil growled.

Leaning out, he tried to fire, but Temple was waiting for it and forced Phil back with a heavy onslaught of firepower.

Temple paused long enough to taunt his former comrade. "You'll never take me alive, you son of a bitch. Don't worry, I'll pay your wife a visit to let her know I took your sorry ass out."

Phil ignored Temple's rant, instead focusing on what the man was doing, not saying. He heard the magazine of the AK-47 bang against the floor.

' _Arrogant bastard.'_ Phil smirked.

Leaning out again, he saw Temple slamming another magazine into his rifle. Phil squeezed the trigger. Temple ducked, but grunted and hit the wall when a round grazed his arm; his weapon flung from his hands.

"Fucker!" Temple spat.

"Now!" Phil shouted to the Germans.

He took a chance. Popping up to his feet, he leveled the rifle over the top of the filing cabinet and fired. The Germans did the same, a massive onslaught of gunfire raining down on their combatants at the end of the hall. He saw Temple scurrying towards the doors in a crouch, pushing his men into the line of fire in order to save his own ass.

Temple's gunmen fell, killed by the overwhelming fire from Phil and his Commandos.

Temple pulled his pistol, firing over his shoulder as he barreled into the door and disappeared.

Phil was moving, keying his mike, "East side of the building. Temple is on the move. He's wounded. Don't let him escape."

Moving up he checked the first door on the left, empty. He moved to the next. Looking inside, his heart dropped. Lowering his weapon, he quickly turned and blocked the door.

"Stay back." He shouted.

"What is it?" Jessie asked, her eyes filled with a look of dread.

"Stay back I said." Phil shouted. He nodded at Jade, who immediately wrapped her arms around Jessie from behind.

"Let go of me." Jessie screamed.

"Jessie, stop." Jade remarked, struggling to keep her hold on the enraged redhead. The Commandos waited for orders, but moved in between Phil and the women, blocking them from seeing whatever Phil was seeing.

Phil, content that Jessie was restrained, stepped into the doorway.

"Fuck." He mumbled. Lowering his weapon he stepped towards the unmoving body of Race Bannon.

"Race," He said cautiously, moving forward. Head hung low, chin against his chest, Race was seated in a metal chair, his arms restrained behind his back. When Phil spoke, the white haired man stirred.

"Jesus, he alive." Phil exhaled. Moving quickly, he knelt behind his friend.

"Race, can you hear me?" He saw Race was handcuffed, the metal restraints having cut deep into the man's wrists, they were covered in blood. Phil pulled a small knife from his vest. Popping the blade open with his thumb, he jammed it into the release mechanism on the handcuffs and worked to break them open. Seconds later, the cuffs came loose. Race's arms immediately fell forward as the blood covered cuffs clattered to the floor. Phil stood and stepped in front of his friend, his hands on Race's shoulders, bracing him from falling out of the chair.

A groan escaped Race's lips. Giving his friend a quick once over, Phil's face darkened as he saw the damage that Temple had done to Race. He was covered in blood, both old dried and new blood. He was filthy and his face, neck, chest, torso and arms were covered in bruises and cuts, a large gash bled on the side of his head was bleeding profusely. He had burns on his chest and arms too, burns that to Phil looked like they were caused by cigarettes and stun guns.

"Race, man," Phil mumbled. Keeping one hand on his friend, he used the other to open his medical pouch and find a bandage. Flipping his wrist to unroll the cloth, he quickly bunched it back up into a ball within his hand and pressed it hard against Race's wound. "Fuck, what did they do to you?"

"Temple…" Race breathed. "He's alive."

"I know, Race." Phil answered. Turning his head, he yelled for one of the Commandos to come assist him.

Race shook his head, "He has Jonny." Rolling forward, Race collapsed out of the chair. Phil caught him in his arms and the two men sank to the floor.

"Fuck." Phil spat as he held on to his weak and weary friend, pressing the bandage against his head again. He felt Race tense a moment later. It appeared to take an extreme amount of effort for Race to raise his head.

"Temple said things." Race croaked. "He did things."

"It's over, Race." Phil set his jaw, controlling the building anger that boiled inside him, anger at the man that was once their friend and colleague; a man that turned into a sadist and tortured a man that trusted him, that had looked up to him. Greg Temple's unfortunate circumstances of being exposed to nerve gas no longer mattered to Phil; Temple had to pay.

"He tried to break me." Race mumbled. "He wanted me beg. I didn't. I didn't give him the satisfaction. He couldn't break me."

Phil nodded at Race's resolve. "I know, Roger. You beat him. You won. But now we need to get you to a hospital."

"Jade-" Race groaned.

"We have here too, she's fine."

"She helped me. She's in this as deeply as the rest of us, Phil. Don't punish her."

"I won't." Phil nodded. "But for now, you need to relax, Roger." He'd never seen Race so broken and it angered him beyond belief that a man that both he and Race had once trusted could do this to an old friend.

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Jessie couldn't stand to be held back any longer. With a forceful pull, she broke free from Jade's hold and rushed into the room.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her strength dissipating from her body.

She willed herself to step forward. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Dad?"

Her father was on the floor, half naked, bloody and bruised, being held by Corbin and assessed by one of the Germans. Phil looked up when he heard Jessie speak. Race did too. When her eyes locked with her father's she broke free from her paralyzed state. Moving forward, she dropped to her knees as soon as she reached her father's side. Phil scooted over, keeping a hand on Race's head as father and daughter embraced.

The tears flowed immediately from the eyes of both Bannons. "Daddy," she cried; her head buried in his chest.

"Ponchita, you're okay." Race responded.

Jessie felt her father's arms attempt tighten around her, to pull her in close, but he was weak. She responded by pulling her arms tight instead. She tried to speak, but had no words, the emotions were too strong. She was just happy that he was alive and safe.

Jessie had no idea how long they sat there, embracing each other, rocking against the dirty stone floor of Race's former prison, shedding tears together.

Eventually, Jessie heard the other Commando enter, his boots smacking against the floor. She watched the man come forward and crouch down next to Phil, whispering in the Director's ear.

Looking up at the Director and the soldier, Jessie watched them whispering to each other. She saw Phil tense, his face flushed with frustration and anger.

"What?" Race asked. Jessie felt her father trembling. "It's Temple, isn't it?"

Phil turned to look at them and the Commando left, brushing past Jade who stood in the doorway, giving father and daughter their privacy.

Phil's shoulders sagged. "He escaped."

"No." Race grunted. He tried to stand, Jessie attempted to keep him down. Phil still held onto his friend firmly. "Let me go after him."

"Race, you're in no condition right now."

"How the hell did he escape?" Race asked, his voice rose a few octaves, causing him to gulp against the dryness in his throat.

"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out." Phil stated firmly. "Come on, like I said, we need to get you to a hospital. The helicopters have landed and are waiting to take us to Landstuhl. Estella is there, Race."

Race held his friend's stare, but eventually nodded. Jessie sat back, allowing Phil to lift Race to his feet, taking an arm and wrapping it around his own neck, his other arm grabbed the back of Race's trousers.

Jessie wanted to help her father exit, but he was weak and therefore unable to support most of his own body weight. Jessie wouldn't be able to hold him up. She took his hand that dangled at his side. She felt him squeeze. It gave her hope. Jade moved out of the way, letting the men and Jessie past. A glance at the woman showed Jessie that Jade was crying.

Reaching the end of the hall, Race paused, forcing Phil and Jessie to stop too.

"Dad?" Jessie mewed. He gave her a look, he attempted to smile, to alleviate her fears. He then looked at Phil.

Jessie caught the silent exchange that passed between the two men. She held her breath. She listened.

Looking Phil dead in the eyes, a vicious growl rumbled out of Race as he spoke through gritted teeth, "When we find Temple, he's mine." He then dropped his head and the group pushed through the door, leaving the prison cell where Race had been beaten and tortured behind.

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"Unacceptable!"

Jonny winced at Zin's outburst. In the command center of The Consortium's hidden lair, Jonny hung back, leaning against a thick wooden support beam behind the grandiose conference table. Seated around the table, the rest of the board members exchanged nervous glances before turning their attention back to Zin.

Standing at the front, Doctor Zin glared out at the unlikely group of allies. His face was flush, his chest heaving from the deep breaths he inhaled and exhaled.

Jonny found that he was thankful he wasn't at the table with the rest of the group. Hanging in the partial shadows, he was able to observe the interaction without drawing Zin's ire upon himself.

"Doctor Zin," Rage spoke with his usual confidence, only the slightest hint of his madness bleeding into his speech, "we can still carry out our plans. Van Brandt will simply have to make due with less funds."

"That fool Kreed!" Zin huffed like an enraged bull. "Bringing Bannon's wife into all of this just to flaunt himself and attempt to grab the girl."

Jonny perked up, _'Jessie.'_

"Whatever Kreed was thinking he would accomplish no longer matters." Julia stated. "His ego got him killed. I won't lose any sleep over the death of that boorish Brit."

"We needed the money." Melena growled at the American woman. "Van Brandt is expecting payment."

"Van Brandt will do as we say." Rage waved a finger at the daughter of Zin. "He wants to see this experiment succeed as much as we do. It is Van Brandt's ego that will carry us through to victory. We shouldn't waste any more time discussing Kreed or his idiot son."

"McManus is in custody." Anaya countered. "He's already given up Temple. What makes you so sure he won't give us up either?"

"McManus has never been here." Doctor Zin replied. Jonny noted the man appeared to be calming down. Straightening his back and clasping his hands behind him, Jonny knew the arrogant Mongolian was putting on a display of intelligence and power for the group.

Shaking his head, Jonny continued to listen.

"We are in no danger based on McManus' capture, however if you want to take precautions just in case his father may have spoken about this location to him, then so be it."

Anaya nodded approvingly. "I'll make the arrangements myself."

Jonny had heard that McManus has squawked to the authorities about Temple and he knew that Anaya had been just as enraged by the news as he was. If Jonny hadn't wanted to stay put and wait on Greg, he would have volunteered to go dispose of the traitor himself.

"Very well," Zin nodded. "Now, Ezekiel, where do we stand with the samples?"

Rage turned in his seat, gesturing with his mechanical hand, he opened his mouth to speak, but a loud crash at the far end of the room silenced him. Every head turned towards the doors that had been flung violently open.

Greg Temple strode forward.

Jonny pushed himself away from the beam, taking a step forward, but pausing when he saw the evil scowl on his mentor's face. In addition to the look of hate that lingered over the man like a black rain cloud, Temple's face was streaked with dirt and dried sweat. A tear on the sleeve of his shirt was caked with dried blood and Jonny could tell the man had been injured, even if it was only a minor wound.

"Mister Temple has returned." Zin boomed, his laugh deep and sinister.

Walking up to the opposite end of the table from Zin, Temple slammed an open palm down. He glared at each member of the board in turn before finally looking Rage. Getting straight to the point, he asked, "Are the samples ready?"

"What happened to you?" Julia huffed.

Temple leered at the woman, his lips turning downward in a hateful snarl. Jonny watched Julia shrink from Temple's stare. It made him grin.

Rage ignored the exchange between Greg and Julia. "They will be ready by tomorrow evening."

"Fine." Greg snarled. "We'll be ready to go."

Jonny hadn't realized that Temple knew he was present until Greg turned his head and stared straight at him. Temple's glare made Jonny's blood turn to ice. "Come here." Temple ordered.

The board members watched in silent anticipation.

Jonny stepped forward. For some reason, he was suddenly scared of his mentor.

Greg straightened and walked towards the young Quest, meeting the boy half way. His expression never changed. Taking Jonny's chin in his hand, Temple held him in a firm grip and turned his head, examining the cut that was healing on his cheek.

Temple let go of Jonny's chin. "What happened?"

Jonny hesitated. Temple was already hopped up in some sort of frenzy, the cause of which Jonny had no idea. But he had no reason to protect the woman that had attacked him either. "Julia." He answered.

Temple's head shot towards the woman. He pulled his pistol as he strode forward. Julia's head shot from side to side, looking for an escape. Temple raised his handgun, pointing it at the woman.

"Stop this madness!" Zin demanded.

Temple ignored him. Jonny was in a state of shock at what he was witnessing.

Rage jumped to his feet, intercepting the man that had one time worked with Greg in the US Government, blocking his path to Surd's woman. "Gregory, do not do this."

"Get out of my way, Grimm." Temple growled.

"If you kill her, they will kill you." Rage stated. "Right here. They will shoot you dead. Look around you."

Temple's eyes scanned the room. Nameless members of The Consortium were on their feet, weapons raised and pointed at Temple.

"We do not harm one another." Rage stated. "That was part of the agreement."

Temple's nostrils flared. He looked over Grimm's shoulder at the frightened woman. "You're lucky, Julia. Thank Argus here for saving your worthless ass. Stay out of my sight and stay the fuck away from Jonny or else next time I don't give a damn if Grimm tries to stop me. I'll fucking kill you. Do you hear me?"

Julia gulped but didn't respond.

"Do you hear me, woman?!" Greg shouted, pushing into the masked man in his enraged state.

"Yeah, I hear you, Greg." Julia finally responded sheepishly.

He kept his gaze on her for a few moments longer, making the woman even more uncomfortable. Finally, his shoulders sagged and he holstered his weapon. "I'll be in my room if anyone needs me."

Turning on his heels, his boots scrapping against the ground, he headed for the door, stopping only long enough to address Jonny, "Come on, Hotshot. We've got work to do."

Jonny knew better than to argue. He simple fell in line behind his mentor, relieved the man had returned, even if he was ready to explode.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

"So, where have you been all this time?" Jonny asked.

Seated in Temple's room within the castle, Jonny studied his mentor as the man paced the room. His face was awash with so much anger, Jonny was surprised that steam wasn't bleeding off of Temple's body.

"I told you, I was taking care of some business." Temple growled, eyeing Jonny with a sidelong glance.

"And? How did that turn out?"

Temple paused in his pacing. His fists rested on his hips and he stared down Jonny to the point that the blonde started to fidget uncomfortably. Jonny hadn't meant for his question to come off sarcastically, but it appeared that was how Temple took it.

Jonny slowly raised his hands. "Hey, sorry, Greg. I was just asking a question. I didn't mean-"

Temple sighed heavily then relaxed. "I know, Hotshot. Sorry, I'm just super hyped up right now. What's been going on back here?"

Shrugging, Jonny exhaled. "Not much. At least not that I've been privy to. A lot of people are amped up, especially after word got around about Kreed and his kid."

"Those fools," Temple grumbled and took a seat on the edge of his bed. "I can't believe Kreed was so shortsighted to realize his little game could possibly come back and bite him in the ass."

"So what now? Anaya is worried that McManus might talk."

"He might," Temple nodded while rubbing his chin. "But Anaya will make sure he's taken care of before that happens. From what I was told, the Germans are holding him. Anaya will get word to Yasimov and that crafty old Russian can have McManus eliminated from an entirely different country." Temple laughed as he spoke.

"He has that kind of reach?" Jonny inquired.

"The Consortium does, yes." Temple explained. "And once Nikolai disposes of McManus, we'll get rid of him. He's already talked to Intelligence One. He needs to be eliminated."

Jonny simply nodded. He wondered if The Consortium could get to the Russian behind the bars of the International Criminal Court's detention center, but with everything he'd seen up to this point, Jonny's money was definitely on Yasimov not surviving much longer.

Temple's grumbled laugh drew Jonny's attention back to his mentor. Greg stretched his muscled arms over his head. "I'd take pleasure in doing it myself if we had the time. I never liked Russians, Yasimov or any other of those bastards. But for now, I'll just have to be content that someone will slide a shank between the man's ribs for us."

Jonny did not doubt Temple's sincerity for one second. The man was dangerous, but Jonny knew that Temple wasn't a threat to him. Jonny looked up to his mentor, was starting to see aspects of Temple's personality within himself, especially in regards to him helping Andrew. Yet, while Jonny was confident that Temple wouldn't harm him, he wouldn't push the older man either. He needed Temple, just as much as it seemed Temple needed Jonny. They were in this together now and Jonny was determined to see things through to the end.

"So what now, Greg?"

Jonny watched Temple rubs his hands over his face. He looked tired. "I need to think some things through before tomorrow night."

"You want me to leave?" Jonny smiled and added, "Maybe see if Anaya is around."

Temple shot Jonny a smirk. Jonny liked it. Temple was relaxing. "Mind your own damn business when it comes to Anaya, Hotshot. But for now, I want to give you something. You've earned it and I'm glad you waited for me to get back."

Both men stood and Jonny fell in step behind Temple. Exiting the room, Jonny finally began to feel normal again now that he was back at Temple's side.

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Race had already started to regain a lot of his strength during the flight to Landstuhl. Blanket draped over his shoulders, he was seated next to his daughter. Race hadn't moved his arm from her shoulders since the helicopters had taken flight. The feeling of his daughter at his side, her head resting on his chest, her arms wrapped around his torso, gave him a renewed sense of strength and determination. Jessie had eventually fallen asleep in his arms and Race wanted nothing more than to do the same, but he'd never been able to sleep on military helicopters. He just didn't have the ability to shut off the switch that flipped on whenever he was the mode.

Glancing across the cramped interior, Race eyed Corbin as the other man spoke into his headset. He wanted to tell his friend to relax, but just like himself, Corbin couldn't turn it off either. Phil and the German Commander were studying a map that was spread out on Corbin's lap, pointing at certain spots along the topographical display while speaking. Race wasn't wearing a headset and therefore wasn't privy to what the men were saying. He assumed the Commander was explaining how Temple managed to escape.

Closing his eyes, Race leaned his head back for just a moment. When he opened them, the aircraft was landing.

' _Huh,'_ Race shook his head. _'I guess I could turn it off.'_

They waited until the helicopter rolled to a stop, the pilot beginning procedures to power down the aircraft. One of the Commandos slid the door open, allowing a gust of wintery wind to slice through the compartment. To Race, the cold air against his skin jolted him, reminding him that he was still alive, that Temple, in his desire to taunt and break Race, had wasted just enough time to allow Race's friends and family to find him. And now, he had to get back to his primary mission, finding and saving Jonny.

Jessie stirred in his arms. Gently, he guided her to the door. Phil and the German had already exited, but were waiting with outstretched arms to assist Jessie and Race down. Race accepted their help for both himself and his daughter.

Heads low, they cleared the spinning blades of their transport then headed across the bleak tarmac to a gaggle of waiting attendants. Within the group, Race saw Agent Matthew Velk. The young Agent looked both relieved and concerned.

The further they got from the engines of the helicopter the easier it was for Race to hear. Phil still had a hand on Race' shoulder, guiding him towards the doctors. "Phil, I'm fine." Race didn't have time to worry about his own scarps and bruises. He wanted to get straight to business. "How did Temple get away?"

He answered Race's question. "The Commandos discovered an old escape tunnel the Nazi's used when they operated that facility. No one even knew the facility still existed, let alone the tunnels that were still passable. If we'd had better intel, we could have stopped him."

Race nodded. It pissed him off too, but there was no use being upset about the missing intel at this point. They'd find Temple again. He had no doubt about that.

"Now, you have to get checked out. Get a shower and some food in you, Bannon." Phil added.

Race decided it was best not to argue with his friend. He'd save that for the doctors.

When they reached the group, Velk gave Race a nod, "Good to see you in one piece, Race."

"Despite Temple's best efforts." Race joked, but felt Jessie tighten her hold on him. He assumed she wasn't too happy with his humor at the moment, but he needed it for himself. It was his defensive mechanism against the anger that would rise within him whenever he thought about his former partner. He gave her a reassuring squeeze regardless.

"Estella and the others are here, Sir." Velk reported to Phil as they all headed inside and out of the cold.

Race didn't have to ask where his ex-wife was. The moment they stepped through the automatic sliding doors, Estella rushed forward. She'd been standing at the entrance along with Alena Stasny and Viktor Martinek, a man Race hadn't seen in years. Race gave Phil a sideways glance and a smirk in regards to Alena's presence; to which Phil replied with a subtle shrug and a grin.

Estella's arms were around her former husband's neck a moment later. Race returned the hug and felt Jessie wrapping her arms around both her parents; a strange family reunion taking place inside the American military hospital.

"Oh, Roger," Estella breathed against his neck. "I'm so thankful you are alive."

"That makes two of us," Race replied. He wanted to ask why she was here and not with Benton, but that could wait. He knew he'd get all the details once he was done with the doctors.

"Jessie," Estella exhaled once she separated from Race. Kneeling down she embraced her daughter tightly. "I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier."

"Mom," Jessie started. Race could hear her choking up on her words. "Mom, it's alright now."

They three embraced again, none wanting to be the first to let go. Eventually, Race heard Phil's footsteps. Corbin had been waiting respectfully off to the side with Alena and Martinek, but he knew the Director wanted Race to see the doctors sooner rather than later. Pulling away from the two women that meant more to him than anything else, Race met Corbin's gaze. He saw that Velk had stepped away, moving to interact with Jade who lingered off to one side. Race hadn't spoken with her since they were captured, but he assumed that Phil would see to the woman's medical needs as well.

"This shouldn't take too long." Race reassured his redheads.

Phil came over then. He put a hand on Race's upper arm and said. "Just get yourself checked out. You've got some nasty injuries. I'm going to go check in on Agent Roberts, but I'll make sure the doctors come find me when you're done. I'm going to see if I can commandeer a conference room to set up a makeshift ops center."

"What happened to Roberts?" Race asked. Again, he had no idea what the rest of the I-1 team had been doing in the fight against The Consortium.

Phil's look darkened. "Argus Grimm. Or Ezekiel Rage or whatever the hell you want to call him. He tried to kill Terry. Busted his face up pretty bad. But don't worry about that. Just go get taken care of." Phil turned to the women, "You two should go with Race."

The women nodded. Phil turned to go. Race watched Estella reach out and grab Phil's forearm, stopping the Director from retreating back towards Velk and Jade. He heard Phil's heavy sigh as Phil looked back at Estella.

"Phil, I'm sorry," Estella's eyes were low when she spoke. To Race it seemed like it was taking an extraordinary amount of effort on Estella's part to speak with Corbin. "I'm sorry I accused you. I'm sorry I hit you and slapped you."

Race took in the scene. Once again, the strife that was taking place between his ex-wife and best friend perplexed him. He'd thought that they had buried the hatchet, but it appeared that there was still lingering issues between the two. Race watched as Phil glanced between Estella, himself, and Jessie.

Finally, Corbin looked back at Estella and nodded. "It's okay. Don't worry about it, Estella. Let's just get moving so we can end this once and for all."

Before Estella could reply, Phil pulled away from her and headed towards Velk and Jade. Race watched then looked at Estella. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Estella's pain was painted on her face for everyone to see. Saying anything to her at this point would solve nothing.

"Sir?" A young nurse stepped forward. She was dressed in multi-cam pants and suede tan boots with a multi-cam patterns scrubs top over her t-shirt. A stethoscope was wrapped around her neck.

Race nodded to the soldier. "I'm ready."

"Yes, Sir." The woman replied. Gesturing towards a set of swinging doors, she said, "Please follow me. We'll make this as quick and painless as possible."

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"Someone's been hitting the gym."

Jonny grinned a little at Temple's remark. Stripping his shirt off over his head, Jonny tossed the garment onto a chair, flexing a bit as he did. "Well, there wasn't much to do while you were gone. And the girls seem to like it."

Temple huffed as he took a seat and lit a cigarette, "Speaking of girls, rumor has it you managed to find a time to get…acquainted with a particular redhead."

"Yeah, well," Jonny took a seat in the tattoo artist's chair. "It was just one night."

"Just be careful, Hotshot. These girls can be trouble. Have you been keeping up with the drinks?"

It was a strange question, but Jonny shrugged it off after a second. "Yeah."

"Well, that's good to hear. Just remember that it's for your own good to keep taking them. We don't want you showing any adverse side effects."

"What does that mean?" Jonny asked, but before Temple answered, the tattoo artist appeared.

They were deep in the bowels of The Consortium's castle and the cool, dampness in the air caused Jonny to shiver when the man touched his arm. He watched as the artist looked at Temple, then back down at Jonny's scorpion tattoo.

"Nice work there." The man mumbled. He was wearing a surgical mask and Jonny couldn't remember if he'd seen him before. However, the castle was large and he'd yet to meet every person within the organization. Many members served multiple roles and this man could very well have been one of The Consortium's foot soldiers, spending most of his time on patrols, guard duty, or out on missions.

"Thanks." Jonny grunted.

Jonny did key in on the plethora of tattoos that adorned the artist's skin, to include a number of places were the strange symbol of their organization was interwoven with his other designs, some obviously much older than others. To Jonny, that meant this man had not only been with the organization a very long time, but was a dedicated and loyal individual.

"Just give him the seal of approval." Temple ordered.

The artist nodded and set his tools to work.

Having already experienced the stinging sensation of being inked, Jonny braced, but when the needle touched his arm he still jumped a little.

"Stay still." The artist's voice was calm.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just stay still." The man responded again with an eerie calmness. Jonny wondered if he was high; he'd hoped not, but at this point it didn't matter because Jonny wasn't getting out of the chair until it was done.

Needle wiring, Jonny concentrated on his breathing. He closed his eyes, thinking about anything other than the pain that was flowing through his arm as the man marked Jonny as a member of The Consortium.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he became aware that he could no longer smell Temple's cigarettes. Opening his eyes, he glanced around and saw that Temple had vanished.

"Where'd Temple go?" Jonny asked.

"He left." The artist answered while refilling the needle with ink.

"What? Why?"

"I don't ask questions and neither should you." The artist pressed the needle to Jonny's skin, continuing his work.

"How much longer?" Jonny snuck a peek at his arm when the man wiped away some of the blood.

"A couple hours. I do not rush my work. You want this to be perfect and it will be. So just sit back and relax. Temple will either return to retrieve you or you can go find him later."

With a sigh, Jonny let his head fall back into the chair. The wiring of the needle causing him to close his eyes again, his mind wandering back to a different time, a different place.

 _Plopping down on the couch with an audible thud, a long sigh escaped Jonny's lips. The roaring fire crackled within the hearth while the heavy snow continued to blanket the Quest property outside._

 _His eyes closed, his ears absorbed the soothing sounds of the fire. About to drift off to sleep, he was awoken by a hand grazing along his shoulder and down his chest. With a smile on his lips, he slowly opened his eyes. Jessie stood next to him. Her eyes full of hunger and lust._

" _I was just about to take a nap." Jonny mused. His hand moving to slid up and down her forearm while she continued to stroke his torso._

" _Oh, don't let me interrupt you then." Her voice teased, but her hand continued to move further down his body._

" _Not an interruption that I mind at all, Ace." Jonny growled. He guided her hand down his abs and groaned when she slid it under the waistband of his sweatpants._

" _Once again we have the house all to ourselves for the evening." Jessie stated as she began to caress him._

 _Jonny's eyes fluttered. Her touch waking him down below immediately. "That we do." He growled. "But maybe we shouldn't do this right here…in the living room."_

" _Why not?" Jessie grinned. "It'll be our little secret."_

" _Jess," Jonny started, but his words were lost when she pulled his sweatpants down, exposing him._

" _Let's just start here," Jessie purred. Her hands pushed at his stomach, forcing him to sit up, directing him to where she wanted him._

 _Reaching behind his head, Jonny pulled his shirt over his head with a quickness that surprised even himself. Next he raised his hips, pulling his sweatpants down._

 _Jessie didn't let him finish removing his clothes. She was on her knees, her hand grasping him, her thumb stroking him. Their eyes met and Jonny saw more than just a hunger in those deep green eyes, he saw desire and love. He saw her need, a need to make him happy, to push him to his limits. Jonny anticipated what was about to happen and it was more than just sex, it was an intimate passion that coursed through both their veins._

 _When her lips found him, he leaned his head back, a deep rumble building in his chest, pushing upward and escaping his lips. "Jess," He growled. "Oh hell yes."_

 _She increased her movements, delving into the act of oral pleasure, responding rapidly to the way Jonny felt against her lips, against her tongue. Running his hands through her hair, Jonny's fingers were entangled in her full, red locks. She sucked faster and Jonny responded by raising his hips in time with her. She was pushing him over the edge._

 _He moaned when she leaned back, her lips sliding up to tease just his head._

 _"I can't take this anymore." Jonny grunted. "Take your clothes off."_

 _Jessie stood. Turning from him, she made a show of undressing in front of the fire. The blazing oranges and reds of the flames accenting her delicate feature, silhouetting her perfect curves. Standing, Jonny shed his pants while watching the strip show Jessie was putting on for him. He stroked himself in anticipation and the moment the last article of clothing fell from her body, Jonny was on her._

 _He pressed against her back. His hands pulled her back into him. His erection pressed against her perfectly formed buttocks. Jessie ran her hands through her hair, lifting the long strands high above her head. Her neck exposed, Jonny's mouth went to her neck, sucking hard where her neck and shoulder met. She moaned in response, her body pressing backwards into him even harder._

" _Take me now." Jessie commanded._

 _Jonny didn't hesitate. Moving around her, his mouth never leaving her neck, he lowered her to the carpeted floor in front of the fire. Their lips met, their tongue finding each other and Jonny pushed._

 _Jessie exhaled, "Jonny, oh yes."_

 _Jonny wasn't planning on being gentle. His excitement was too much at the moment. Pushing hard he rocked his hips against her. Pushing deep inside the love of his life._

 _Jonny loved that Jessie didn't hold back. She screamed his name with each of his thrusts. Sitting back on his knees, Jonny lifted her legs, his finger digging into her silky skin. He watched himself moving in and out of her. The visual pushed him even closer to the edge. Looking back at her face, he saw she was awash with both physical and emotional ecstasy. It made him wild. He kept thrusting. His rested her legs on his shoulders so he could drive deeper into her. His hands found her breasts, their firmness felt good in his hands as he kneaded them. He grazed his thumbs over her erect nipples. Jessie whined in response to both his touch and his thrusts._

 _He felt himself about to come. He wanted to make her come at the same time. Moving forward slightly, he forced her buttocks off the floor so he could find even more of her. Jessie inhaled. Her hands were on the floor, gripping the carpet, hanging on, unwilling to let go._

" _Keep," Jessie groaned._

" _I can feel you around me." Jonny teased. His hands still worked her breasts. He gently pinched her nipples. She bucked in response. "I can feel you getting tight. Getting wet."_

" _For you, Jonny." Jessie managed to say._

" _Yeah." Jonny responded and drove harder._

 _Jessie screamed as she came. Jonny lost himself in her pleasure. He drove harder and when he was ready he pushed his hips against her one final time, burying himself inside her. His release was invigorating. He felt himself shaking inside her, giving her everything he had. Jessie moaned as he came inside her._

 _His seed expelled, he leaned back, allowing her hips to drop to the floor. Jonny stared into her eyes, the twinkle of the fire reflected in her gaze. Her legs slipped from his shoulders and he moved over her, resting his elbows and forearms on the floor beside her head, framing her face._

 _He kissed her again. A gentle kiss that turned into one of shared passion as well as exhaustion. He let it last as long as she was willing to have him. When they finally parted, Jessie's eyes rolled back in her head._

" _Jonny," She whispered between deep breaths._

" _Shhh," Jonny hummed, his finger grazing over her lips. "Don't speak. Save your energy."_

 _Her eyes found his once again. He smiled as her face lit up with a beam. "What am I saving my energy for?"_

" _This was just round one of who knows how many tonight." Jonny answered. "The only question is, are you ready to find out how many rooms are in this house?"_

 _Jessie giggled beneath him. "I'm ready to explore."_

 _Jonny's eyes drifted up and down her body. His hands slid along the sides of her torso. When he looked in her eyes again, he grinned and said, "Oh, me too, Jess. Me too."_

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Having been directed to where the I-1 team was set up, Benton made his way to the large conference room in one of the hospital's admin wings. Hadji, Agent Dugger, and Hadji's new I-1 bodyguard, Agent Reynolds were all in tow.

Benton pushed through the door, causing everyone in the room to pause and look in his direction. He hadn't planned on making such a grand entrance, but from the looks on the faces of the people that were all actively engaged in the search and rescue operation of his son, none seemed to know that he was coming.

"Doctor Quest, what are you doing here?" Phil asked.

"Benton," Race was standing next to Phil, the duo interrupted from a report they'd been reading. Race appeared worn. He had dark circles under his eyes and while he wore fresh clothes, Benton could see white bandages on his forearms and peeking out from beneath the collar of his polo shirt.

Benton saw his bodyguard hesitate. They hadn't seen each other since Pennsylvania, when Benton had so foolishly proclaimed that he wanted Race out of his family's life. Now, seeing the white haired man still actively engaged in the search for Jonny and obviously having suffered through physical and mental exhaustion, Benton felt like an ass.

"Race," Benton came forward. He extended his hand towards the man. "I'm sorry. I acted like an ass before and only now do I realize what a fool I was."

Benton watched Race glance down at his extended hand then look up into Benton's hazel eyes. A little smile appeared on Race's face and he took Benton's hand, but instead of shaking it, he grasped it and pulled Benton forward into a hug, clapping him on the back.

The scientist could heard the collective sighs in the room, every person there wondering just what would happen. Pushing back from his friend, Benton turned towards the others. "I'm sorry for making such an entrance, but I wanted to be here to help."

Jessie came around the table and wrapped her arms around her mentor. "It's good to see you again, Doctor Quest."

"Likewise, Jessie. It appears you've been doing quite well since you left."

Jessie nodded. "I'm doing the best I can. We all are."

Benton glanced around the room. He exchanged nods with Estella and some of the I-1 Agents. "It appears so."

He saw Alena step forward. "Hello, Benton."

Benton felt his face brightening. "Alena, what are you doing here?"

"Helping in whatever way I can to find your son. To find my angel."

Benton took her hands in his, squeezing them warmly. "Thank you, Alena."

His eyes fell on Jade next. He gave the mysterious woman a thankful smile, but she appeared distraught and unfocused. Benton couldn't help but wonder what had happened to this point in the investigation to bring so many people together.

Benton looked at Phil, who had stepped to the side when Benton had approached Race. "Thank you, Phil. For everything."

Phil bowed his head with a curt nod. "Of course, Doctor. But I must ask what brings you here?"

Benton saw Phil's eyes narrow as he looked at Dugger and Reynolds. While Dugger was a big man, bigger even than Race, he shied away at his boss' stare.

"I was coming with or without them, Phil." Benton stated. "So there's no point in chastising your Agents. They came with to protect me, continuing to do their duty."

Benton heard Dugger exhale a sigh of relief for Benton's backup. Stepping forward, the Cajun reported, "Agent Blake has taken on full time rotational duties in the GOC until this is over. She called in Milner and Pickett for additional help too." Dugger glanced towards Jessie for a moment, then back at his boss. "Milner mentioned something about wanting to make those responsible for his busted face pay. Of course he didn't mean the wily Jessie Bannon, but those that hurt her. We also left the guards at Doctor Quest's residence in order to keep up the appearance that he and young Hadji are still there."

Phil nodded. Benton watched the man's gaze move between Dugger and Reynolds. Finally, Phil looked back at his second in command. His facial features lightening, "That's all fine and acceptable. But I must ask you, Agent Dugger, who's taking care of Raven?"

"Uh," Dugger stumbled, obviously caught off guard by the question. Benton could tell the big man had forgotten about Phil's daughter's pet in Corbin's quarters back at the headquarters building.

Benton never thought he'd see a man like Dugger blush, but blush is exactly what the Cajun did. Phil looked towards Benton and Race and rolled his eyes with a smile, enjoying the brief lighthearted reprieve from the grueling legwork they had been buried in before the four new arrivals had entered.

Dugger grumbled something about his phone, then pulled the device from his suit coat pocket and turned away from his boss, shooting off a quick text message. Benton assumed it was back to Agent Blake to take over babysitting duties for the I-1 feline.

Chuckles emanated from the members of the group. Corbin slapped his man on the shoulder once Dugger was done with his message and directed everyone to take their seats.

Benton looked around the table as he sat. Assembled was a team of I-1's finest and then some; Agent Terry Roberts, given temporary leave from his recovery to join the group. Roberts' face was still bandaged in some spots, but his recovery was going well and Benton could tell the linguist would make a full recovery in time.

Next to him was Agent Karla Altine. She watched Roberts closely. Benton heard her reminding Roberts not to overexert himself.

Opposite those two sat the young Agent Matthew Velk. Looking stoic and resolute, he was a young Race Bannon in the making. Benton knew the man would go far within the top secret organization.

Jade sat next to Velk and Benton knew the woman was agitated with worry. He assumed part of her agitation was from Velk's presence at her side. She might not be a prisoner, but that didn't mean Corbin hadn't told his agent to keep an eye on the woman.

Alena was seated closer to the head of the table. Benton knew the man that stood behind her in a well-tailored suit was Colonel Viktor Martinek. Benton had only met Martinek once on a visit to Prague, but the man had a face and a bearing that was not easily forgotten. He might not be a bodyguard by trade, but he hovered protectively near the former Czech President, his face devoid of any emotions. Benton knew the Czech intelligence agent would not leave Alena's side until she was safely back in their country and his loyalty to the woman would force him to give his life to protect her if it came to that. Benton hoped it didn't come to that. He didn't want to see any of these people that were sacrificing so much of themselves to finding Jonny injured or harmed in any way ever again.

Estella and Jessie made up the last of the group. They were seated on the right side of Race.

Benton and Hadji had taken seats across from them. Corbin sat at the head of the table. Dugger moved to the open side of Jade and Reynolds stood back behind Hadji. He was still technically assigned to protect the Sultan and would do so until he was properly relieved of his duties by Corbin.

Seeing Phil was about to speak, Benton raised a hand, cutting the younger man off for a brief moment.

"Before we start back up," Benton spoke. Every eye in the room turned to him, giving the elder Quest their complete and undivided attention. He took a moment to compose his thoughts, then continued, "I just want to take a moment and thank each and every one of you. You have all done so much and I will never be able to adequately express my gratitude or repay you for what you've done. You've sacrificed so much of yourselves during this entire ordeal, going all the way back to this past summer. Yet, we all know this is not over. The sacrifices you've made, are making, and will continue to make mean so much to me, to my family. I will forever be in your debt, every one of you. I, just like all of you, want to see this end. I want my son, Jonny, safely back and out of harm's way. In order to do that, we have to stop The Consortium at all costs. All I ask is that we continue to fight this threat together. I am prepared to give everything I have at this point, every last ounce of willpower left in my body to see my son safely back home. All I ask is that you continue on with me. Let's take this fight to The Consortium. I want my son back. Please, help me get him back."

When he was done speaking, a long silence lingered in the room. He looked at the faces of those he'd just addressed and he was proud to see nothing but strength and determination there. Not one flicker of doubt was to be seen. Not one person there felt that they wouldn't find Jonny and return him home safely. These men and women, some he'd known for years and some only for a few months, were as devoted to the task as he was. He had no doubt they'd give it their all to find his son, to commit the ultimate sacrifice if it meant saving Jonny Quest. He felt his eyes getting wet. No one looked away, no one felt embarrassed by his emotional reaction to their dedication. He felt a comforting hand on his forearm; looking over he watched as Hadji struggled to maintain his composure. Benton placed his other hand on top of his son's and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Benton locked his gaze with Race. His longtime friend simply nodded. No other words needed to be said between the two men. That nod told Benton all he needed to know. That Race Bannon would find Jonny and would bring him home.

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He heard Anaya sigh contently before climbing off of him. Pulling the covers up over her legs, he moved in a way so she saddled up next to him, snuggling against his side as Temple raised his arm to allow her to get closer to him. He pulled her against him and kissed her gently on the lips.

"The first time after coming back from a mission is always the most intense." Temple grinned.

Anaya nodded. Her legs still shook from the love making session they had just endured. She rested her head against his chest, her leg hooking around his, as he stroked her upper back lovingly.

He felt her hands on his chest, moving gently over him. Something was wrong. Scooting back a bit, he reached for her chin and turned her head towards him. "What's wrong?"

"Greg, I'm scared." Anaya admitted after a slight pause.

He didn't like the way her eyes shook when she spoke. "What are you afraid of, my love?"

Anaya sighed, "So much is happening right now. So many things are going wrong. I'm afraid…" she looked away for a moment. "I'm afraid of losing you."

"Anaya," Greg spoke gently. "You're not going to lose me. I promise you, when I see Van Brandt I'll have him up my doses. They'll work, Anaya. I know they will."

"I hope so, Greg." Anaya pulled her chin from his grasp. She rested her head back on his chest.

There was something else. Something she wasn't telling him. "Anaya, we've had this discussion before. This isn't anything new. You don't need to be afraid for me. You know that. So, tell me what's really bothering you."

Another pause. He could feel her breath rolling over his skin as she exhaled. Without looking at him, he heard her whisper, "Greg, I'm pregnant."

Temple tensed. "What?"

"I'm pregnant, Greg." Anaya stated again. She sat up and stared at him. "We're going to have a baby."

"How?" Disbelief bleeding into his words. His first reaction was to ask who the father was, but when he looked into her eyes, he knew the truth. It was him. "The doctors said that couldn't happen."

He felt her hands wrap around his. She was trembling. "I know what the doctors said, Greg. They said the possibility was minuscule based on your condition, but not impossible."

He shook his head at her words. "I…I don't know what to say."

Anaya lowered her gaze. He felt her hands trembling harder. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Anaya, don't say that." Greg answered. He put a hand on her thigh, caressing her in an attempt to alleviate her fears.

"If my father finds out-"

"He won't find out, Anaya." Temple declared.

She laughed a little, but it was a humorless laugh. "How can he not? I can't hide it forever. Unless-"

"Stop that, Anaya." Greg growled. "Don't say such a thing. We are not doing that."

Her eyes locked with his and Greg saw fear mixed with love in her eyes. She was afraid; afraid of her father and of losing Greg, the man that she loved. He loved her too and would do anything for her and now for their child.

"We should just leave, Greg. Forget The Consortium and Jonny. They don't matter anymore." Anaya spoke quietly, as if she was suddenly afraid that the walls had ears. "We can escape somewhere my father can't find us. We have enough money-"

"I don't run away, Anaya." Greg stated firmly, cutting her off. "You know that. I am not a man that would run. I'm not afraid of your father."

"Then what are we to do?"

"Baby," he ran a finger along her face, tracing her jawline. He gave her an encouraging peck on the lips. "Does anyone else know about this?"

She shook her head. "No one. Not even my sister. I was late, so while you were gone I snuck out to one of the villages. I saw an old midwife there and she confirmed it."

"Good." He was thinking up a plan on the fly. "Let me go on this next mission. I'll talk with Van Brandt and get the doses. When I'm done there, I'll come back. I'll tell your father that I'm done. I'll dissolve my contract and cut ties, but I won't run. If he has a problem with that, well, I've faked my death twice already, fooling the best intelligence operatives in the world in the process. I can do it again if need be."

Anaya seemed to accept his answer. With a nod she said, "Promise me you'll come back to me, Greg. Promise me that and I'll do anything you say."

"I promise you, Anaya, I will come back to you. I'll come to you and our child." His hand moved to her stomach as he spoke the last sentence.

Anaya leaned into him, pressing her lips against his. Greg took her in, pushing his lips to her, his tongue into her mouth. His hands pushed the comforter away, exposing her completely to him again. Lips still sealed against each other, Greg moved forward, lying Anaya gently on her back. He hovered over her.

When their lips separated she proclaimed, "I love you, Greg."

"I love you too, Anaya." Temple responded. The soft tone of his voice contradictory to his rough and menacing persona. "Let me show you how much I love you. Let me make love you like we've never made love before."

"Yes," She breathed and spread her legs beneath him.

All thoughts of revenge and hatred vacated his mind at that moment in time. Greg gave all of himself to his lover that night.

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At just past ten in the evening, Phil rubbed his eyes. "I think we could all use some sleep. I don't think we're going to learn anything more tonight."

Race grumbled, but couldn't argue with his friend's logic. Since Benton had arrived earlier in the day, the team had been pouring over everything they knew, stopping only for short breaks to stretch their legs.

A few hours earlier, Roberts had begrudgingly returned to his hospital room; having only given in when Corbin threatened to have Dugger carry him back and handcuff the linguist to his bed. Velk and Altine had gone with him, leaving Jade to be watched over by Dugger and Phil.

"When we arrived, I made arrangements for rooms for everyone at the hotel down the hill on the air base." Pete explained. "Reynolds and I can rotate guard duty for Terry so Karla and Matt can get some decent rest. I think they've been sleeping on that tiny couch in Terry's room this whole time."

"Thanks, Pete." Corbin nodded to the Cajun. "Let's meet back up here at seven tomorrow morning. That'll give everyone time to get some much needed rest. If anything happens throughout the night I'll wake everyone and we can reassemble here. If we run ourselves ragged none of us will be any good when we do get a break. Is that acceptable, Doctor?"

Benton nodded. Phil could tell the scientist would have preferred to keep at it, but Corbin needed to give everyone some rest or else none of them would be effective. What Phil couldn't prevent was people going back to their rooms and continuing to dig, himself included.

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Race shut off the water and stepped from the shower. Moving gingerly, he toweled off and wiped a hands across the foggy mirror. He studied his reflection. He was tired, bags under his eyes confirmed his exhaustion. Wrapping the towel around his waist he stepped back so he could view more of his body in the mirror. A scowl spread across his face when he saw the damage that Temple had done to him. Bruises covered his chest, stomach, and the side of his face, each in different stages of healing. Temple had delighted in causing Race an exuberant amount of pain, evidenced by the slashes left by his ex-friend's straight razor. Temple had also burned him; alternating his torture with a stun gun, cigarettes, and electrical cables.

"Why, Greg?" Race mumbled, his voice barely loud enough to register as spoken words. "What caused you to turn into someone who would do this?"

Shaking his head, he knew he had no answers. It didn't matter. Greg Temple was lost. The man that he'd become was nothing more than an enemy to Race now.

Earlier in the evening, Estella and Alena, escorted by Colonel Martinek and one of the soldier's from the hospital assigned as their liaison, had gone to the installation's exchange and purchased lots of clothing and toiletry items for everyone.

Race brushed his teeth and combed his hair. Pulling the towel from his waist, he bandaged his wounds again before pulling on a pair of grey Army sweat pants and a black long sleeved t-shirt.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he joined his daughter and ex-wife in the small hotel room they were sharing. Every member of the team had been given a room, but Race had insisted on staying with Jessie and Estella in order to watch over them and ensure they were safe. Benton and Hadji were sharing the adjoining room. Jade was across the hall. Race promised himself he'd find time in the morning to speak with her; but for now the woman had given her word to both him and Corbin that she wouldn't leave. She was in this to the end just like the rest, for Jonny's sake.

Reaching into the small refrigerator, Race grabbed a bottle of beer, also courtesy of Colonel Martinek, and popped the top off. Taking a swig, he grimaced at the mix of the German beer's rich flavor mixed with his toothpaste. He took another swig anyways.

"Dad," Jessie started.

"What is it, Ponchita?" Race asked. He could tell she was nervous.

"I'm sorry if I did things that I shouldn't have. I just want to find Jonny."

Race set the beer down then moved to take a seat on the edge of one of the beds next to his daughter. His movements were stiff, but he ignored the soreness in his muscles in order to comfort his little girl. "Honey, you have nothing to apologize about. I understand what you did and why you did it. I'm just thankful you didn't go off on your own, that you had the wherewithal to let Phil protect you."

Jessie nodded and smiled a little. "I know, but, my actions put him in danger too. He almost died trying to keep me safe. I kind of feel like I forced his hand and that was unfair."

"Jess, no one can force a Bannon to do anything. And no one can force Corbin to do anything either. So, no, you didn't force his hand. What he did was planned out between him and me before I left for Europe. Don't beat yourself up over it. Just remember the things he taught you, the things I taught you. You'll need to stay strong through the rest of this ordeal for Jonny. But I'm here now and I'm not leaving again. If you need to talk about it, I'm here for you, honey. I'm always here for you."

Jessie gave her father a gentle hug, not wanting to aggravate his injuries. Head buried in his chest, she sniffed, "Thanks, daddy. I'm so happy your back."

"Same here, Ponchita." Race kissed the top of her head, smoothing her hair with a gentle touch. "Why don't you take a shower and then get some sleep. I'll try not to snore too loud in the next bed over."

Jessie giggled. He felt her give him one more tight squeeze before separating and moving to the bathroom.

Race watched her go. He waited until he heard the water running and the distinct sounds of movement within the shower before he spoke with Estella. He sighed, his hands rubbing over his face.

Standing, he retrieved his beer and look at the mother of his child. "What happened, Estella?"

"Roger," Estella voice sounded like she was about to argue, but her tone quickly turned from confrontational to one of exhaustion. "I was stupid. I got caught up in so much ridiculous self-pity and grief that I was blind to see what was happening around me. I walked right into Kreed's trap. Luckily, for me, our daughter was there to save me from my own foolishness."

"I don't want to argue with you anymore, Estella." Race downed his beer then took a seat on the bed opposite her. Leaning forward, he took her hands in his and forced her to look at him. "You heard what Benton said earlier. We have to see this through to the end. For Jonny. Right now all that matters is Jonny. Not our feelings towards each other, not your anger with me or Corbin, not your distrust of Jade. None of that matters. All that matters is finding and saving Jonny. Everything else will work itself out in the end."

"I don't want to argue anymore either, Roger," Estella breathed. "but I need to apologize to you. I've been so cruel to you as of late and my anger with you led me straight to Kreed."

"That doesn't matter anymore, Stell."

"Let me finish," Estella cut off. "Roger, I understand this is how our lives are. I understand that and it took me all these years to really accept it. I thought that when you settled down as Benton's bodyguard that things would be different, but the threats against the Quests never ended. But you were there to protect them and you still are. You're doing your job right now, to save Jonny. I saw you in Jessie. I saw her becoming just like you. That frightened me. It still does, but honestly, Roger, as scared as I am, I'm also proud."

Race blinked. That wasn't what he was expecting to hear.

Estella smiled a little at his reaction. "I'm proud of the woman that our daughter has become. That she's devoted to the young man that she loves and that she'd do anything to have him back in her arms. Jessie looks up you, Race, more than she looks up to me, but that's okay. I've accepted that. You're loyal and steadfast. You're a man that I'm proud to say is the father of our child. I'm proud that she has a man like you to look up to. A father that has taught her right from wrong and to stand up for herself and fight for what she believes in, for what she loves."

Estella, I don't know what to say." Race whispered. He'd never heard Estella speak so honestly about his influence on their daughter.

"Don't say anything, Roger. Just know that I still love you. I always will. For our daughter's sake. So, do what you have to do. Find Jonny and bring him back to his father and our daughter. But protect Jessie along the way. She's not going to sit back on the sidelines, I know that now. Please keep her safe. That's all I ask."

"I will, Stell. I will." Race answered. Standing, he pulled her up to her feet. His hands moved to her face, cupping her delicate chin, staring into her emerald eyes, the eyes their daughter had inherited. "I promise, Estella. I'll keep Jessie safe and I'll bring Jonny home."

He didn't let her respond. He kissed her. Kissed her deeply and more passionately than he'd kissed her in a very long time. He kissed her with more fire and passion than he had kissed any other woman, even the one that was currently staying in the room across the hall. He had feelings for Jade, but he loved Estella. He loved the mother of his child and he kissed her so deeply to remind her of that love they'd once shared, the love that had created the fiery and passionate woman named Jessica Bannon.

Race couldn't be happier when he felt Estella returning his kiss with equal fervor.

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Temple untangled himself from his lover's arms. Anaya stirred when he moved, causing him to pause momentarily. When he was convinced he hadn't woken her, he climbed out of bed.

Dawn was quickly approaching. He needed to find Grimm to ensure all was set for Greg's departure later that day. After that, he'd locate Jonny and brief the kid on the mission they were about to undertake.

Grabbing some clothes, he moved to the bathroom of his private suite. Greg ensured the door was closed before he turned on the light. He squinted against the harsh glare, but his eyes quickly adjusted. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. Things had changed. He was going to be a father. Never in his life had Greg Temple thought he'd fall in love, but he had, and in the strangest of places. He loved Anaya Zin with all his heart. Frowning, he suddenly felt bad for all the times he'd slept with other women, but no more. Those days were over. Anaya was the only woman for Greg Temple now and he'd shower her with all the love and respect she deserved.

Twenty minutes later, he was showered and shaved. He quickly dressed, then shut off the light before exiting. Moving back to the bed, he used the greyness of the encroaching dawn that filtered through his balcony windows to see within his chambers. He grabbed his holster and secured it to his belter, shoving his pistol inside.

Reaching down, he ran a hand over Anaya dark, gorgeous hair. She moved under his touch. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against the top of her head.

With a hushed whisper, he proclaimed his love to her. "Anaya, I love you more than anything on this earth. I'll come back for you. For you and our child. Sleep well, my love."

He watched her for a few more moments, losing himself in the steady rhythm of her breathing. With a sigh, he kissed her one more time before grabbing his gym bag and made a quiet exit.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

 **Author's Notes: Goddess Evie, thank you for the review. Your comments are always so insightful and really help me think through how this is going to play out. I promise I'll get back to working more diligently on finalizing these chapters! But you know it's hard with the other projects we are working on!**

 **Yes, folks! Goddess Evie and I are collaborating together on a series that we think is going to be fun and exciting! Stay tuned! (But I'm also pushing her to finish up the BEA/RHG too! Get at it, woman!)**

 **Guest: Thank you for the review! And thank you for sticking with this fic. I'm glad you decided to stay with it and have enjoyed it up to this point. Please let me know how you think it all plays out. (We still have ways to go too!)**

 **ForeverWells and TJ: When you two get caught up to this point, I hope are you are still as engaged as the rest! Of course, my cliffhangers aren't as effective, but that's okay! I just want you to have fun with my fic!**

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Jonny followed Temple through the corridors of the familiar building. The guards that had given them access at the door seemed agitated, but Jonny didn't speak their language and therefore could not find out what was bothering the two young men.

Stepping inside the room where Temple had brought Jonny on his first mission, he was greeted by the same men that had been there previously. Jonny noted that Temple didn't spend time with pleasantries this go around. The British biochemist, David Van Brandt, stepped forward and took the metal suitcase from Temple that Ezekiel Rage had given the big man before they'd left The Consortium's hideout. Temple handed it over willingly.

"It's all there, minus the money." Temple spoke with an even tone to his voice. Jonny knew the man was in no mood for arguments.

Van Brandt nodded. Jonny watched him set the suitcase on a side table and pop the locks open. Jonny watched the Brit's eyes twinkle as they scanned the carefully placed vials, seated securely in the hard foam within the case.

"Where is the money, Mister Temple?" The man behind the desk inquired.

"There was a complication in gaining the funds." Temple answered.

"Kreed's foul up?" Van Brandt asked, shutting the suitcase and pressing the locks in place with his thumbs.

Temple nodded then turned his eyes back to the despot behind the desk. "You'll have to make due until the mission is complete and we'll transfer the funds at that time. I'm sure your fighters will be willing to wait a few days if it means you can take control of the city."

Jonny watched the warlord's reaction. Jonny moved his hand subtly under his jacket, wrapping his hand around the grip of his pistol. The tension in the stuffy room was clear, but finally the man relaxed and started to laugh.

"So be it, Mister Temple, but I will hold you to your word that payment will be delivered."

"We provided you with the weapons you'll need to overthrow the responding authorities." Temple reminded the man.

"And for that we are thankful and it is the only thing stopping me from killing all three of you right now and taking your precious vials."

"You have no idea how to integrate them into the bombs." Van Brandt stated.

The despot shrugged. Jonny watched the man's bodyguard, who remained silent and did not raise his weapon.

"My fighters will deal with the local authorities and any Blue Helmets that show up."

"Then there shouldn't be any problems." Temple growled. Then he looked towards Van Brandt, "When can we begin?"

"Immediately." Van Brandt replied. He held the suitcase in his hand and came over to stand next to Temple and Jonny. "The devices are in my lab. We can head that way now and add the vials."

"Let's go then." Temple grumbled.

The three men headed for the door, but the warlord called out before they left. "What about Intelligence One, Mister Temple?"

Jonny saw Temple's face darken. Turning back around Temple stared down the man. "What about it?"

The man stood. "Like I said, my fighters can handle the locals and the U.N. however I have heard that Intelligence One is hot on your heels. If they show up and bring American forces with them, the fight will be much harder."

"I'll take care of them." Temple growled.

"You said that before, Mister Temple, yet you've managed to eliminate not a one of them. I'm starting to wonder if you are as able as they claim."

Temple took a step back in the direction of the desk. "I said I'd take care of them. End of discussion."

The man must have seen the same menacing look in Temple's demeanor that Jonny did. He sat back down behind his desk then waved a dismissive hand at the group.

Jonny heard a deep growl from Temple, but a moment later his mentor spun back around on his heel and left, with Van Brandt right on his heels and Jonny bringing up the rear.

Two hours later, Jonny observed Van Brandt insert the last remaining vial into one of the bombs. He'd counted a total of six explosives, each small enough to be concealed in a backpack. But Jonny knew that there were at least a dozen vials in the suitcase from Rage. He couldn't help wondering what the last ones were for.

"We'll plant the devices later this evening when the crowds are not nearly as heavy." Van Brandt stated as he sealed the plate on the bomb after loading the vial.

"Fine." Greg answered. "Got somewhere we can lie low for a few hours?"

Van Brandt nodded. "We can transfer the devices to a safe house I have that our friend back there doesn't know about. Then we can lie low till evening."

"Thanks, David." Temple remarked. "We'll need to send a report in a few hours."

"I have communication assets there as well."

"Okay." Temple jerked his head at Jonny who immediately jumped up from his chair. "Help us pack these up and transport them to the vehicle."

A sudden wave of hesitation washed through the blonde. He didn't know where it had come from, but as the aspects of their mission were becoming clear to him, he suddenly started to have second thoughts.

Yet, Jonny did as he was told.

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Anaya worked hard to keep her expression neutral. Watching the image of her lover, Greg Temple, on the large screen as he spoke with her father made Anaya extremely nervous. She couldn't shake the dread that had crept into her thoughts about what Temple was doing and the danger he was facing. However, he had promised to come back for her and so far Temple had always kept his promises.

"Once the devices are in place, you are to stay there and ensure they detonate. I also want a report of the response times of the local and U.N. forces." Doctor Zin was saying.

"That's not necessary," Greg countered. "It causes a higher risk of not only capture, but exposure for the three of us."

Anaya saw his eyes wander to her for the briefest of moment before looking back towards her father. Also on the screen were the images of Jonny and the British scientist, David Van Brandt. Anaya knew of the history between Greg and David. While others within The Consortium considered Temple to be nothing but a heartless killer bent on revenge, Anaya knew otherwise. He was loyal to those that displayed their loyalty to him. Van Brandt was one of those loyalist, having pledged his services to Temple and The Consortium after Greg had helped him escape Great Britain and saved the man from certain death. Jonny was another. The young man was attached to Greg and while Anaya wanted Temple all for herself, she knew that Temple had developed fatherly type feelings for the boy. She'd have to deal with that situation when the time came.

Anaya shook her head and concentrated back on the discussion.

"You will follow your instructions, Mister Temple." Zin replied, his voice even, but with a hint of authority that left no room for misinterpretation.

The members of the board may believe they had equal parts in the decisions affecting The Consortium, but Anaya knew that her father was the real head of the operation. He just entertained the others to make them feel they were as important as the Zins; of course he didn't actually believe it.

Greg huffed, but agreed. "Fine."

"Very well. Proceed, Mister Temple." Zin stated then waved a hand at the screen. A moment later the connection was severed.

Anaya was on her feet, heading for the door as soon as the call ended.

Exiting, she was half way down the hall, when her sister called out to her.

"Anaya," Melena's voice carried down the stone corridor.

Anaya sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment, before turning and waiting for her sister to join her. "What is it, Melena?"

"You've been acting strange as of late. Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, I've just been a bit tired." Anaya lied. "In fact I was heading to the infirmary to see if I could get something to help me sleep."

"Ask Rage." Melena suggested.

Anaya shared that strange connection with her twin and she could tell that Melena was not exactly believing her story. She had to get rid of the woman before she started prodding more deeply. Anaya had been surprised she'd managed to keep her relationship with Temple a secret from Melena this long, so she didn't want to take any chances of saying or doing the wrong thing in front of her sibling.

"Rage is busy," Anaya replied nonchalantly. "Honestly, sister, it's really nothing serious."

Anaya held her sister's gaze as the other woman studied her. When Melena relaxed, Anaya did the same. "Okay, but tell me if it gets worse, Anaya."

"I will, Melena. I promise."

"I will let father know that you are busy. Try to get some rest."

"Thank you, sister."

Melena nodded then headed back to the command center. Anaya waited until the woman was back behind the heavy doors before she exhaled the breath she'd been holding.

' _Who knew subterfuge was such exhausting work.'_ She mused in her head then continued her journey towards the medical lab.

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When Jade got up from the conference table, Race noticed. Race could feel Estella's questioning gaze on his back as he stood to follow Jade, but he ignored it; he didn't have time to explain Jade's involvement to his ex-wife right now. Besides, Race knew that Estella's dislike of the other woman came more from womanly conflicts than from anything else. Again, he'd deal with that later.

He mumbled something about needing fresh air as he swooped around Corbin and Benton who were engaged in a discussion concerning the treatments of the prisoners back in D.C.

When he stepped out into the hall, he saw Jade retreating down the corridor. "Hey," He yelled, trotting up to the woman as she slowed and turned to wait for him. "Where are you headed?"

Jade sighed, "I need some coffee."

"There's coffee back in the conference room." Race reminded.

"Then I just need to go for a walk and clear my head." Jade crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. It was apparent that she wasn't used having her movements questioned, even by him.

"Let's walk then." Race said, not giving her the option of declining his presence. He heard her sigh when he placed an arm around her waist, but she didn't resist him. "We haven't talked since we've arrived here and I wanted to make sure you're doing okay. The others might not see it, but I know you, Jade, and I know you've been affected by all of this."

"They don't see me as part of the core of this team." Jade admitted after a moment. "Phil and his people see me as a potential suspect, your ex just sees me as the woman that stole you away, and your daughter…well we both know how she feels about me. I think the only ones, besides you, that appreciates me is Benton and Hadji, but they are so wrapped up in looking for Jonny that they haven't seemed to really take notice of me. I don't blame them. Jonny is the priority after all."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself, babe. But I can say something if you want." Race offered. He knew Jade played by her own rules and because of that she didn't exactly fit in with the rest of the team, especially I-1, but she didn't deserve to be treated like an outcast for it.

Jade shook her head, "Don't. I'm used to it, Race, believe me, I am used to it. Right now, I just want to do my part to help Jonny however I can and make up for the mess I got you in."

Race stopped. Turning her in his grasp, he made Jade face him as he spoke. "You didn't get me into this mess. Why would you think that?"

"It was my contact that sold us out to Temple." Jade didn't meet his eyes as she spoke.

"You couldn't have known about that." Race encouraged, but he still saw the doubt in her features.

"I should have seen it coming, Race. It's not like I'm new to this game."

"Jade, what's done is done. There's no use in beating yourself up over it. And besides, if you remember, that son of a bitch won't be able to sell anybody out ever again."

That made her smile a bit. Race may have killed her contact, but the man deserved it for what he'd done. When she didn't speak, he continued to prod her for information. "What else? What about when we were being held? What did Temple do to you?"

He felt her tense for just a second in his grasp before her body relaxed. She still refused to look into his eyes. Something more than what she'd revealed was bothering her. Race lowered his voice. His words coming out in a growl, "Did he hurt you? Did he rape you?"

Jade shook her head, "No, he didn't rape me. He didn't hurt me, at least not like that and not like what he did to you. He smacked me around once or twice, but mostly he left me alone. That was his way of torturing me. Not telling me what was going on with you. Race, I'm so sorry."

To Race's surprise, Jade started crying. He'd never seen her cry before. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her into his chest, comforting the woman that he cared about. Regardless of the opinions of the others, Race knew Jade was a good person at heart.

"Hey," He soothed quietly, thankful that they'd ended up in a hallway of the hospital that was vacant at the moment. "Jade, you don't need to apologize to me. I'm not upset with you at all, don't think that, please."

He felt her head bop up and down against his chest before she pulled back from him. Dropping his hands, he watched her wipe the tears from her cheeks with the back of a hand. When she looked up at him, he knew she was still scared, but there a flicker of hope where there'd been none just a few minutes earlier.

She inhaled, then spoke, her voice steady once again. "You know Temple is dying, right?"

"I knew something was wrong with him." Race nodded, his jaw set in a hard line when he spoke. "I assume the nerve gas is still destroying his mind. The last time I saw him, when we were on the island, I knew then that he was lost, but I also thought he died in the explosion that followed. But, Temple's made his choices. I could have forgiven him for what he did to me if it was just that, but he's gone too far. He's a criminal. He betrayed his fellow I-1 agents and his country. He tried to execute Phil and kidnap his family, and worst of all, he's brainwashed Jonny and is using that kid for god only knows what. I can't forgive him, Jade. I just can't."

Her voice barely above a whisper, Jade looked into his eyes and asked, "Are you going to kill him?"

Race inhaled sharply. "Yes."

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The mood in the stuffy room was tense. Jonny eyed Temple as the man turned the monitor of the video teleconference with more force than was necessary. Ever since they'd left The Consortirum's hideout, Temple had been acting different, acting strange. It worried Jonny.

"Step outside, Hotshot. Van Brandt and I need to talk." Temple stated.

"Greg,-" Jonny protested.

"Just do what you're fucking told, Jonny!" Temple snapped, slamming his hand down on the table.

Van Brandt looked away. Jonny's mouth hung open for just a second longer. Temple turned and glared at him and Jonny gulped. If Jonny wanted to say any more, his thoughts died immediately upon gazing on Temple's intense stare.

"Fine." Jonny mumbled and stepped to the door.

He pulled the door with him as he exited, but he left it slightly open, barely a sliver. The two men that remained inside wouldn't notice unless they walked directly over to the door. Jonny kept a firm grip on the handle to steady it and keep it in place.

Crouching down, he pressed his ear to the door and listened.

"I need you to give me another injection, David." Temple said. His voice was flat, having lost the anger and flare that had burst out of him at Jonny only minutes earlier.

"I don't know if the injections are doing any good, Greg." Van Brandt replied. To Jonny, the scientist / doctor had a hint of sadness in his reply. Perhaps Van Brandt and Temple were closer friends than Jonny had previously assumed.

The disgraced Brit continued, "You should stick to the pills. I'll up the dosages within them. I can have them ready for you by morning."

"I want both, David. Give me the injection to hold me over till the morning. I can't take the pain and it's the only way to stop it without resorting to getting high. If you don't want to do it yourself, just leave the damn needle."

Jonny heard a sigh and assumed it came from Van Brandt. "Don't be coy, Greg. I'm not going to let you inject yourself, even though your veins are large enough they'd be impossible for you to miss."

The two men fell silent and Jonny listened. Footsteps belonging to Van Brandt, they were lighter than the sounds made by Temple, moved throughout the room. He heard clinks and clicks. Then, "Lean back, Greg. You know it's a pain in the arse to get this tourniquet around those tree trunks you call arms."

Beyond the door, Temple laughed. A moment later, Jonny heard him hiss. Van Brandt must be injecting Temple with whatever medication he'd requested.

"I've always hated needles." Temple said a moment later. Another sigh. "David, give it to me straight, brother. Will this stop it? Will the injections and the pills stop me from dying?"

Jonny frowned. Temple really was dying.

"I'm hopeful, Greg. The drugs have been successful in the past in reversing the effects of the old medications that caused your illness. I'd hoped your last dosage increase would do the trick, however while its helped quell your symptoms for awhile, from what you've told me it seems the pain has returned with more frequency."

"It's almost every day now. I can barely sleep it hurts so bad sometimes." Temple replied.

"Well, let's see what another increase does, okay?" Van Brandt responded.

Jonny heard another pause. He had to strain when Temple spoke again, the man's voice was low.

"I really need this to work, David."

"Why?"

"I've been seeing Anaya Zin for some time now."

"That's pretty risky." Van Brandt answered.

"I know, but I love her. I'm in love with that woman. I don't care about the age difference or her megalomaniac father. Here's the thing, David. No one knows what I'm about to tell you, not even Jonny. "A long pause, "Anaya's pregnant."

Jonny almost collapsed inward on the door at Temple's revelation.

A sharp whistle from Van Brandt. "Are you serious? Is it yours?"

"Of course it's mine, you pompous asshole." Temple laughed.

"I only ask because your chances of impregnating a woman are significantly low. You know this."

"Low, but not impossible."

"I suppose."

"I know it's mine, David. I just do. And I need to get better because when I'm done here I'm going to go back and get her. I'm going to leave The Consortium, David, so I can take her somewhere safe. I'm thinking Norway. Maybe Canada. It has to be somewhere cold because Anya loves the snow. She loves the peaceful calm a wintery landscape can have on one's soul. She's always telling me I need to slow down and enjoy the scenery." He laughed again. "Now, I finally think I'm ready to do that."

Jonny shook his head in disbelief, wondering what happened to the Greg Temple he'd known all these months. The man seated beyond the door was someone different. His voice was smooth and he spoke of his love for Anaya with a gentle tenderness that Jonny could have never in a million years expected to come from Greg's lips. But it was obvious that Temple truly loved Anaya. Jonny's brow scrunched when he narrowed his eyes, zoning out the voices beyond the door and thinking about the woman he thought he had loved; about Jessie.

His dreams told him that he should love her. But everything Temple had said actually told Jonny otherwise. It was so confusing it made his head start to throb.

Shaking the pain away before it took over, Jonny went back to concentrating on the conversation between Temple and Van Brandt.

"What will you do if Doctor Zin finds out?" Van Brandt was in the middle of asking when Jonny regained his focus.

"Like I said, when I go back I'm going to cut ties. If Zin doesn't let me...simple. I'll kill him. I'll kill him and the rest of the board. Hell, I already plan to kill that bitch Julia for what she did to Jonny while I was in Germany. The rest will step aside and let me pass or they'll end up just as dead as Doctor Zin."

"Well, why are we even going through with this mission, Greg? Why not just kill Zin now and end it."

"I can't do that, not yet. I need to know that your increased dosages will work. I need to live in order to take care of my child and I can't do that until I know that I will survive this."

Jonny heard another pause between the men. Then a matter of fact question from the Brit. "If that happens; if you kill Doctor Zin and the board, can you give me control of The Consortium?"

Jonny held his breath. He didn't know much about Van Brandt, but what he did know told him that a sadistic, egotistical man like David Van Brandt would be just as bad at the head of The Consortium as Zin, Rage, and all the rest.

"Tell you what, David. I'm willing to do that for you as payment for all you've done for me. But on two conditions. First, you leave me and Anaya alone and in peace. Once we're gone, we're gone. I won't come back. Second, keep providing me with my medication. Of course I'll continue to pay you for them, but no matter where I end up, I'm going to need the pills. Can you agree to that?"

Humming came from the British man's lips. Finally he replied, "That sounds like a fair exchange to me."

Temple yawned. "I'm getting sleepy."

"That's the injection. I added a small amount of melatonin to help you sleep."

"Thanks, David." Temple responded. "I trust this conversation doesn't leave this room."

"Of course, my friend." Van Brandt replied. "I'm indebted to you for more than just saving my life all those years ago. And believe me when I say I would be happy seeing you unseat Doctor Zin."

Chairs scraped across the floor. That was Jonny's signal to slink away before he was caught eavesdropping. He pulled the door closed the rest of the way, ensuring he heard the faint click of the device seating itself in the striker plate.

Moving to the end of the hall, Jonny shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the dusty wall, kicking his right foot back against it. He appeared to look as nonchalant and unconcerned as possible, not like someone who had just learned a slew of unsettling details about a man that had become a new father to him.

Jonny turned his head when he heard the door open. He watched the two men emerge and exchange some words, but they were speaking too low for Jonny to hear what was being said. At this point it didn't matter.

Temple came up to him after leaving Van Brandt, who had returned to his office within the safe house. "Hey, Hotshot. Sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Jonny shrugged, "No worries, Greg."

Jonny studied Temple's face without acting like he was studying him. He was tired that much was obvious, but he was also distraught. Jonny knew that Temple didn't want to stay here, but he had to see the mission through to the end. But it was only another day or two, at least that's what he'd heard Zin say on the conference call.

They walked down the hall, heading into the room that Van Brandt had set up for them. It was a decent size, but the two shabby twin sized beds made it appear smaller than it actually was. Jonny sat down on one and began rummaging through his bag that he'd left in the room prior to going to Van Brandt's office.

Temple stripped off his shirt then collapsed onto his bed.

"You okay, Greg?" Jonny asked, making sure he sounded concerned, but not overly concerned in order to keep the fact hidden that he knew what was going on. Grabbing a bottle of water from the pack at the foot of the bed, Jonny twisted the cap off. Retrieving one of his packets, Greg let him carry a small supply now, he dumped the contents into the warm liquid, shook it up, and then drank it down in a handful of long gulps.

"Just tired, Jonny." Temple replied. "Do me a favor and try to keep the noise down, okay? Van Brandt gave me a shot and its going to help me sleep. Lock the door. And don't leave without letting me know. It's dangerous out there and no place for you to be wandering around on your own. We have a few hours before we need to head out."

"Will do, Greg. I'm pretty beat myself. I think I'll take a shower then try to catch some sleep too."

"Fine." Greg mumbled.

Jonny stood and locked the door. He went back to his bed, picked his bag up and tossed it on the mattress. By the time he'd pulled out some clean clothes, a towel, and his hygiene kit, Greg was fast asleep.

Jonny glanced at the big man for a moment before heading to the small bathroom they were sharing. Asleep, Temple didn't appear nearly as threatening as he did when he was awake. In fact, he reminded Jonny of Race Bannon in a lot ways.

"Race." Jonny grumbled while walking to the bathroom, his head suddenly transforming into a violent storm of hate and anger. "My whole life you lied to me. You killed my mother and damnit, I swear I'm going to make you regret you ever stuck your nose into my life."

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When Race eyed Corbin heading to the little coffee stand in the hospital the next morning, Race paused which caused Estella and Jessie to stop and look at him.

"Hey, I need to talk to Phil for a few minutes," Race jerked his thumb in the direction of the coffee stand. "Go ahead to the conference room and see if Hadji and Benton need any help with anything."

Race sighed when both women looked at him questionably. To alleviate their concerns, he put on a smile and shrugged lackadaisically, "Guy talk."

Estella sighed, "Alright."

Jessie gave Race's hand a squeeze, then nodded. When they started back on the path they'd been heading, Race let of a sigh of relief.

Trotting over towards Phil, Race came up next to his friend, who was about to order, and said, "Make it two of whatever you're getting."

Phil turned his head slightly, then held up two fingers to the waitress.

Within a minute, she set two cups down in front of Phil and took his money. "Keep the change." Phil told the young worker as he grabbed the cups and handed one to Race.

Taking a sip of the stemming brew, Race grimaced. "I forgot you only drink black coffee."

Phil smirked then asked, "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine, but I'd be able to actually relax and sleep normally if this was all over."

"That goes for all of us."

"Hey," Race stepped to the side and inclined his head towards the empty tables and chairs that were set up next to the stand, "Got a minute?"

Phil seemed to get the hint and headed over to the chairs with Race. Once they were seated, the Director asked, "What's on your mind, Bannon?"

Race suddenly felt uncomfortable with what he wanted to discuss with his friend. He knew it was irrational to even think that anything Temple had said during Race's captivity had been true, but he had to hear it from Phil's own lips.

With a deep sigh, Race began. "First, I haven't really had the chance to stop and thank you and the team for what you've done up to this point."

"We don't need thanks, Race." Phil's attempt to dismiss Race's gratitude didn't deter the white haired man at all.

"I know, but that doesn't mean I can't say it, man." Race smiled.

Phil simply nodded his head at that.

"And you took care of Jessie for me. Kept her safe and I imagine whatever path you two took to get here was not without complications or confrontations. This isn't a life I ever wanted for my daughter, but it happened and I'm glad that it was you that helped her through it."

"You daughter is tough, Race. Not just physically, even though she caused quite a bit of physical injuries to some of my guys, but mentally and emotionally as well. But, honestly man, from where I sit, I don't think you need to worry about her trying to follow in your footsteps."

Race nodded. Phil's affirmation of Jessie helped set his mind at ease a bit more.

Phil sipped his coffee, then asked, "What else?"

"Is it that obvious?" Race chuckled humorlessly.

"You wear the mask as well as the rest of us, Race, but I've known you too long." Phil replied evenly. "And you know I've been where you've been, more than once unfortunately, so I have a good idea of what's going on in that thick skull of yours. You can't hide the visible scars Temple gave you and you might be able to hide the invisible ones from most people, but you can't hide them from me. And I don't recommend it anyways. You saw what happened to me when I did that. So, tell me, Bannon, what's eating at you?"

A smile curled up at the edges of Race's lips. "You're good, Corbin. I forgot how good you are at this craft."

"There's a reason they pay me the big bucks to be the Director of Intelligence One." Phil shot back with his own smile, "Now stop stalling."

Race pushed his coffee cup forward a little on the circular table so he could lean his elbows on the edge. Running his hands over his face and head a number of times, he finally let out a deep growl. "Temple told me things, Phil."

"What kind of things?"

"Did you know he sold you out in South Africa? He claimed he did it to make a point to Stephens, but I think he just did it because he's sick in the head. And that was even before Greenland."

Phil didn't appear fazed by the news. "I didn't know it was Temple, or anyone in the Agency for that matter, but I figured someone had talked. It was the only way they could have known. But, Race, I came to terms with that a long time ago. And we aren't here to talk about me."

Race nodded slowly. Glancing around, ensuring they were still alone, Race lowered his voice. "He told me other things too, Phil. He said things. Things about…Estella."

Phil didn't respond, so Race kept going. "He told me that for those few years Estella was with I-1, when she and I were first together, that she was sleeping around."

"Nonsense." Phil rolled his eyes.

Race shook his head, "Temple claimed Estella slept with like half the Agency back then. Claimed that she slept with him." He paused and locked his stare on Phil. "And with you."

Phil finally reacted with some emotion. Setting his cup down, he straightened his back. "That's preposterous."

"You never slept with my wife?"

"Never!"

"Not when you were on that mission in the Balkans?"

"The mission to capture Yuri Delic? No!" Phil leaned forward. Race noted that his friend's gaze never faltered, never looked away as he spoke. "Race, Roger, I've never slept with Estella. That's not me, you know that. I'd never do that to you. I've never been attracted to her and even if I had been, Estella was your wife. No, man, Temple is full of shit. He said those things to get inside your head. No one ever touched Estella. Not me, not Greg, not anyone. She'll tell you the same thing. She didn't sleep around."

Race could tell Phil was getting angry, but he also knew the man's anger was not directed at him, but at Temple. "I didn't think so, Phil, but I wanted to hear it from you. I'm not going to say anything to Estella, so can we just keep this between us?"

Phil nodded, "Of course. The conversation doesn't leave this table, Race. You have my word."

Race huffed a little laugh then leaned backwards, grabbing his coffee securely in his hand. "I'm sorry, Phil. I don't even know why I thought-"

"Temple's a son of a bitch." Phil grumbled.

"There's something else, Phil. And again, I don't want this leaving this table."

"What?"

"During one of his mind game sessions, he called Jonny on the phone."

"Are you fucking serious?" Phil sounded astonished.

Race nodded, "But here's the thing. From the way they spoke to each other…Phil…I don't think Jonny's a captive. I think Temple has brainwashed that kid and is turning him against us. When we find him, he's not going to be what we hope. And that is going to crush Benton and Hadji."

"Jessie too." Phil threw in.

Race sighed. "My daughter. From what I heard, the young man she loves wasn't there. And I'm not sure if we're going to be able to bring him back."

"Don't say that, brother." Phil said softly. "We'll bring him back. Once we get Temple's claws out of him, Jonny will come back. I just know it."

Race stood. Phil did the same. Meeting the Director's eyes again, Race just shook his head and replied, "I hope so, man. I really hope so."

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Jonny held his breath while he started out the window of the safe house the following morning, watching the streets beginning to fill with people, vehicles and animals. He'd accompanied Temple and Van Brandt the evening prior to place all the devices and now they were waiting. Waiting for the moment to detonate.

"You okay, Hotshot?" Greg asked from behind.

Jonny turned from the window. Greg was seated on his bed, lacing up his boots.

"Yeah, I suppose."

"What does that mean?"

"Why are we doing this, Greg?" Jonny dared to ask. "What have these people done to The Consortium?"

Temple appeared unconcerned with Jonny's apprehensions. "Nothing. They've done nothing. However, they are necessary sacrifice to the greater plans of The Consortium."

"Now you sound like Zin." Jonny shot back.

"Watch your mouth, Hotshot." Temple grumbled. "I'm nothing like that egomaniac."

Jonny frowned. He hadn't revealed to Temple that he had eavesdropped on his conversation. At this point, he had no plans to do so either. Jonny knew that Greg wanted out and he knew why, so it confused him a little to see Greg still following Zin's orders. Maybe Temple was worried that Zin suspected Greg was sleeping with Anaya and was bidding his time to keep the woman safe from the wrath of her father until Temple returned. Or maybe whatever was killing the man had pushed him to the point that he no longer cared that his actions hurt others. It was obvious that Greg cared about Jonny and Anaya, but other than that, Jonny didn't think Temple possessed the ability to care for anyone else.

"But why here?" Jonny gestured at the window. "Mogadishu. What does this place have to offer?"

Temple finished lacing his boots. He straightened his posture and looked at his protégé. "I'm not supposed to tell you, however, I know I can trust you, kid. And you deserve not only my trust, but also being brought in on our plans. This shithole means nothing to The Consortium. It is simply a test site. We're going to gauge the responses of the authorities."

"Why?"

"Because as we speak, Grimm is still developing more vials. We want to see how the U.N. responds to an incident in a place like this. There will be more attacks in similar shitholes. We contain the U.N. and Intelligence One by bogging them down in responding to and containing outbreaks in these places so they won't be able to respond to the larger attacks in the more powerful nation states in the world."

"So we are trying to take over the world?" Jonny laughed a little.

"No," Temple shook his head, but also laughed a bit. "We're simply trying to control it. When chaos takes over, we can slip our people into the leadership positions that truly matter. That asshole behind the desk things he's going to have some sort of part in The Consortium. He's insane. If he's not killed by the Blue Helmets or I-1 when his fighters attack, then our orders are to go in and kill him before we leave. He's nothing except a tool we are using to get what we want."

"What about Van Brandt? Are we supposed to kill him too?"

Temple shook his head. "Van Brandt is one of us. I told you he wasn't because at that point I didn't know how you'd respond. But he is. He's a member of The Consortium's board. He works hand in hand with Grimm. He's the one that led us to the man in Moscow that had Doctor Arman's formulas."

"Who is Doctor Arman?"

"He doesn't matter. He's dead. Killed by General Vostok many years ago. But his legacy is the biological weapon he developed which we obtained. The only piece we didn't have was the antidote. Grimm needed it to analyze so he could mutate Arman's original strain into what we are using today. Now there is no antidote available."

Jonny turned back to the window. Glancing at his watch he waited. He felt Temple at his side a moment later and when the first explosion rocked the city, rattling the window of their little safe house room, Jonny closed his eyes and sighed. He felt Temple's hand on his shoulder.

In a low voice, Temple remarked emotionlessly. "There's no going back now."

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Drumming his fingers on the conference table, Phil attempted to control his frustration. After his talk with Race, Phil couldn't stop thinking about Temple and the things the man had done to Race. And to Jonny. His eyes wandered to where Benton and Hadji were hunkered down over their laptops, comparing notes on the formula Benton had developed that he hoped would counteract the side effects of the drugs The Consortium was feeding its victims. He tried to remain positive, but the reports from back home had not been good. But he wouldn't give up hope, if for no other reason than to give Benton the encouragement and support he needed.

But now an entire day had past and no fresh developments had arisen. Everyone was once again assembled in the conference room, but they were making very little progress on tracking down Temple and Jonny. After Greg had escaped through the tunnels beneath the old Nazi facility, they'd lost track of him. None of Temple's men had survived the assault and none of the evidence they'd recovered from the scene had yet revealed a clue as to where Temple had gone.

Corbin was frustrated. He led the best intelligence agency in the world, yet they couldn't seem to track down one man.

About to suggest they order in some lunch, Phil was cut off by the ringing on the spider phone in the center of the conference table. All eyes turned to the device as Velk reached forward to answer the call.

"Sir," The voice of Agent Blake bled through the phone right away. "Sir, you need to turn on the news right now."

Corbin was already snapping his fingers and pointing. Dugger fumbled with the remote for one of the LED televisions on the wall. Turning it on, he flipped through the channels until he found the appropriate broadcast.

"Are you seeing it?" Blake asked.

"Yes," Phil replied, his voice going low.

A live feed from Mogadishu was playing on the screen. Dugger turned up the volume.

" _We have yet to receive confirmation if this was indeed a terrorist attack, however reports of multiple explosions having rocked through the city are still coming in at this time." The reporter was saying. "the U.N. has already responded and WHO assets are in route. Again, nothing confirmed, but unofficial reports are leading us to believe that terrorists have set off multiple biological weapons throughout the city, with hundreds of dead and injured already reported."_

"My god," Benton breathed.

Race was already in motion. Moving to Hadji, Phil saw he was directing the Sultan to pull up whatever he could find on the internet in regards to the current situation happening right now in the Horn of Africa.

"Blake," Phil barked, "I want our satellites over Mogadishu NOW. My authorization codes to reroute their flight plans coming your way now." Phil snapped at Velk to send the codes; the man was already working it. He was immediately grateful that Dugger and Reynolds had possessed the foresight to bring multiple I-1 laptops with them. "What do we know that the news isn't reporting?"

"The first explosion went off three hours ago. More followed. We just found out about it, but we've already learned that at least sixty three are confirmed dead. Wounded are displaying signs of trauma that could be related to exposure to a biological contaminant."

"How many wounded?" Benton asked.

"Over a hundred." The response was grim.

Dugger was on his phone, coordinating for support from the 10th Special Forces group stationed in Germany.

"What else?" Phil growled.

"Reports are sketchy at the moment, but at least four separate witnesses at three of the blast sites stated seeing three men near the sites yesterday and earlier this morning. Again the reports are sketchy, but the common factor between all the statements claim to have seen three Caucasian males, two older and one significantly younger, at or near the sites."

"Any photos?" Race asked next.

"No, Sir." Blake's response came through deflated. "Mogadishu doesn't have CCTV and authorities have yet to analyze any photos or videos that may have been captured by witnesses on personal cell phones or cameras."

"Have the authorities concentrate-" Phil was in the process of saying when Jessie's shout interrupted him.

"Look!" Jessie hollered, causing everyone in the room to pause in what they were doing.

She was pointing at the screen. Grabbing the remote from where Dugger had dropped it, she activated the live rewind feature, pushing the feed into reserve. Hitting play, she let it go then paused on the image that had grabbed her attention. Amidst the chaos on the screen, Jonny was in the background, caught on camera walking quickly away with two men. His face wasn't facing the camera, but the profile was definitely his. He looked bigger, having gained some muscle and his hair was longer and brushed back on his head. But it was definitely Jonny.

"Jonny!" She shouted.

Phil met Race's eyes. Recognition.

"Temple." Race growled.

"And David Van Brandt." Phil snarled. "I should have fucking known."

Immediately regaining his composure, Phil started snapping orders at his people. "Dugger, get those SF guys ramped up now. We need gear, clothing and weapons. Velk, are the codes sent?" When the other man nodded, Phil continued. "Get with the Air Force liaison. We need a C17 ready to go the moment the SF guys arrive. Blake, rewind your feed to time index three two zero. I want those satellites watching every move of those three on the screen. I want to know exactly where they are at all times. Do you understand?"

"Got it, Sir. If they so much as sneeze our satellites will see it."

Phil turned. "Estella, Alena, Viktor. You all stay here with Roberts and Altine. I need you running what you can from back here."

"I will get with my people in Praha. I can have additional assets sent to Somalia too." Viktor replied, already dialing on his phone.

"Benton, Hadji, can you access IRIS from these workstations? I need you to stay here and tap into my satellites' feeds and send them to our mobile devices. We need real time feeds while we are airborne as well as when we hit ground."

"Already working." Hadji replied without looking up.

"Jade, you're coming with us. I don't want you out of my sight." Phil ordered. His tone left no room for debate. She nodded to him.

"The guys from Group are on their way." Dugger interjected. "They're already airborne and will be here within thirty minutes."

Phil nodded his approval. "Dug, Velk, you're with us."

He said nothing to Jessie. He knew the girl would be going with them, regardless of anyone's attempt to stop her. As much as Corbin didn't want to put the girl in danger anymore, the fact that they just confirmed that Jonny was alive and knew his location, he'd never be able to keep her away. But he felt a sense of relief in knowing that Race would be there too. Race Bannon would protect his daughter and if something happened, Phil knew that Race knew Phil would protect Jessie for him. Neither man would let anything happen to the redhead.

He turned to his longtime friend and confidant. He met Race's hard stare with his own steely gaze. A silent exchange passed between the two men, a knowledge of what was about to take place when they found the man that had betrayed them. When they found Greg Temple. "Come on, Bannon, let's go get Jonny."

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 **To Be Continued…**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

 **Author's Notes: To all my readers, I hope you continue to enjoy my tale. It's not over just yet. ;-)**

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"Mogadishu." Race shook his head.

Jessie contemplated her father's grim tone as he spoke the name of Somalia's capital into the headset. The teams, consisting I-1 and the Special Forces soldiers, boarded two separate Blackhawk helicopters that had been waiting hot the moment they disembarked the Air Force C17. They'd landed at a top secret CIA facility on the outskirts of the city where the sleek helicopters had been waiting to carry them into the city.

While on the C17, Jessie, along with the rest of the team had changed into multi-cam pants, black shirts, black boots and gloves. They'd donned protective armor and secured weapons. Jessie hadn't even flinched when the I-1 men, her dad included, had undressed in front of her, stripping down to their underwear in order to change. And while none of the men even glanced at Jessie and Jade during the process, she hadn't had any reservations about changing her clothing either. At this point, modesty seemed quite petty when stacked up against the grand scheme of things.

"Fucking Mogadishu." Phil responded.

Jessie knew what worried the men. Everyone knew about the volatile city's history and what had happened back in the early 90s when two U.S. Army helicopters had been shot down. She'd read the book, seen the movie. She knew about the eighteen military men that died in the Battle of Mogadishu. Her gaze went to the Special Forces soldiers that were in the helicopter. Their faces were drawn, void of emotion. They knew too. They knew what had happened to two of their brothers before them. Special Forces Delta Operatives Master Sergeant Gary Gordon and Sergeant First Class Randy Shughart had willingly given the ultimate sacrifice to protect one of the downed pilots in order for the man to be rescued. She also knew they posthumously been awarded the Medal of Honor.

Jessie pressed her eyes shut. She didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think about something so horrible happening in a place she was about to enter. She had her father to protect her. She had Phil to protect her. She had the other I-1 men and the SF soldiers to protect her.

She was still scared.

Everything she'd been through up until this point had been necessary to find Jonny and bring him home, but Jessie suddenly felt totally unprepared. She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't an I-1 Agent. She should have stayed behind. She should have let her father handle it.

It was too late now though. Here she was, traveling at a high rate of speed into the unknown. Into what could potentially be the final battle. Her only hope was that it didn't become a disaster. That they went in, maneuvered around the responding medical personnel, and found Jonny so they could bring him home.

The helicopter banked hard.

Jessie was torn from her thoughts.

"INCOMING!"

She heard the pilot's voice announce the warning in her headset. Her eyes shot open as the aircraft lurched, throwing her against the soldier to her left.

The men started shouting to each other as a rocket propelled grenade shot passed the aircraft's nose. The RPG barely missed the bird's nose thanks to the skills of the CIA pilot.

"Going in hot." She heard someone say.

The aircraft dived.

She locked eyes with her father. She saw encouragement there. But she also saw regret. Regret that he'd brought her into this and there was no going back down. He removed his headset, replacing it with the mid-cut style Special Forces helmet that had been in his lap. Jessie saw Phil do the same, as well as the rest of the men that were not already wearing their helmets. Jessie followed suit. Everyone unbuckled their safety harnesses. They secured their rifles in tight grips.

Jessie's body lurched again as the aircraft maneuvered in ways she didn't think possible. She felt the man next to her grab onto her arm, keeping her from falling out of her seat; she gave him a grateful smile.

Her stomach did a somersault and she felt like she was going to vomit. She heard one of the Green Berets actually do so. No one looked at him though. No one held it against him.

She heard ground fire as the doors opened.

The pilot pulled up, reducing the aircraft's speed to an almost dead stop. The nose shot up and the rear wheel barely touched the roof.

"Exfil! Now!" Someone shouted.

Bodies poured out of the Blackhawk helicopter. Jessie was right behind her dad and Phil. Agent Velk was on their team too. The blazing sun stung her eyes, but she saw the other aircraft on the next building over depositing Agent Dugger, Jade, and the rest of the Green Berets.

Gunfire rattled all around. The aircrafts rose into the sky. Jessie willed herself to breath as she lie flat on her stomach on the dusty roof, her father's hand on her back.

Once clear of the aircraft's blades, she pushed up into a crouch and scurried towards the nearest corner of the roof where the men were assembling. Jessie stayed at Race's side as he came up next to Phil. They formed a small circle, with some of the Green Berets facing outward to provide security, but still close enough to hear.

"You all know the details." Her father was saying over the sounds of the gunfire in the streets. "They'll be on us soon. You know what the target looks like. Jonny Quest is not a combatant, even if he is armed. He's to be taken alive. No exceptions."

Phil took over the instructions, "I want Greg Temple and David Van Brandt alive if possible, however if they give you no choice, you have authorization to engage with deadly force."

"What about the rest?" One of the Green Berets asked.

Jessie saw Phil's face go cold. "If they fire at you, make sure your aim is better than theirs. Understand?"

The soldiers all gave curt nods of agreement.

Jessie watched as her father and Phil exchanged slight nods. She knew what was happening.

"Let's get moving." Race said.

They bounded to their feet, splitting up into two separate teams, Jessie, her dad, and his I-1 brethren heading for the door that led to the building's stairwell and the soldiers for the fire escape at the far side of the roof.

"Come on, Ponchita," Race told her as they moved towards the door. "Stay right behind me and let's go find Jonny."

Jessie rose to her knees, then her feet, standing next to her father.

The battle was about to begin.

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"Two CIA helicopters set down infiltration teams in the southern part of the city." Van Brandt nervously reported as he came into the room Jonny and Temple were sharing.

"Any idea who was on the birds?" Temple asked. Jonny saw him immediately reach for his combat gear at the news Van Brandt had brought.

"No. These fighters don't know who the men are. They just see American military forces, but it's safe to assume I-1 Agents were on those helicopters, to include Bannon." Van Brandt responded. No longer overdressed in his expensive three piece suit and tie, Van Brandt looked more like the soldier he had once been; fatigues, combat boots, and t-shirt. He was strapping on body armor just like Temple. Jonny started to do the same; hiding his emotions when he heard Van Brandt's mention of Race.

"We need to verify the warlord's death or do it ourselves." Temple stated. Jonny watched him secure his pistol into his drop leg holster then reach for his AK-47. Temple steadied the butt of the weapon on his hip, then pulled the charging handle back, locking the bolt to the rear. He then inserted a thirty round magazine and rode the bolt forward, chambering the first round.

"Come on. We need to move quickly." Temple ordered. "Jonny and I will go take care of our friend while you secure our escape route. Make sure its clear of any enemy forces."

"Got it." Van Brandt nodded.

Jonny felt Temple's gaze turn to him. Jonny had mirrored the actions of his mentor and Van Brandt. Armed with the same gear and weapons, Jonny was ready for the battle they'd brought upon the war torn city. The gunfire beyond the walls of their hideout confirmed that the fighters had already engaged the local authorities, but the addition of I-1 and American military forces was going to make things a tad more difficult, Jonny knew.

"You ready, Hotshot?" Temple asked after Van Brandt departed.

With a nod, Jonny hefted his rifle, "Ready."

He watched a sideways smirk appear on the corner of Temple's mouth; a slight indication of excitement shattering his otherwise battle hardened visage. Jonny thought he saw something else as well, something akin to pride. Temple was proud of Jonny.

Puffing his chest out, Jonny promised to show Temple that his pride was justified. He'd earned the man's respect and he wasn't about to falter in the face of the biggest battle of his life to date.

"Let's do this so we can get the fuck out of here." Temple remarked, the seriousness returning to his tone.

"Lead the way, Greg." Jonny agreed and followed his mentor out the door and into the fray.

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Taking point, Phil led the team down the stairs of the decrepit tenement the helicopter had dropped them off on. Besides the gunfire outside, he heard a cacophony of sounds bleeding into the hallways from the slum's multiple living spaces; foreign voices yelling back and forth, televisions, crying children, music and even barking dogs.

An oddly designed five story structure, the team was forced to pass down the hallways of each floor to reach the stairwell that descended to the next floor, creating a zig-zagging route that forced Phil's formation to pass by potential dangers that could lurk behind each door or lying in wait down the next set of steps.

Weapon raised, ready to fire without hesitation, Corbin kept a steady pace. With Race behind him, Jessie wedged between her father and Agent Velk bringing up the rear, ensuring no potential threats snuck up on them from behind, they moved quickly down the steps, around the corner, through the halls, and over to the next stairwell in order to make their way out to the battle entrenched streets.

Whoever resided behind the doors, none emerge to confront the group yet they must have known something was going on, they couldn't have missed the overbearing noise of the helicopter that landed on the rooftop.

However, on the second floor, one door did crack open, causing Phil to direct his attention and the barrel of his rifle towards the opening.

Blinking, Corbin stared into the wide eyes of a Somali child. Squeezing his body through the crack in the door, the boy, no older than ten, stared at the Director with a look of curious fright. Large round brown eyes shone with a strangeness as to his thoughts as man and boy contemplated one another. Shouting from within the boy's apartment could be heard, but whether it came from the child's relatives of some crazy television show, Phil couldn't tell. It didn't matter though, he focused on the pistol the boy held.

Phil lowered his rifle slightly, he couldn't tell if the gun was real or a toy but he had to act on the belief it was real. Keeping his firing hand firmly on the grip of the weapon, he let go of the fore-grip so he could wave the boy back; the last thing Phil wanted to do was harm a child. The boy, who was dressed in colorful shorts, a dirty Spiderman shirt, and no shoes didn't move, but opened the door a bit wider so his little sister could see what he was seeing; a gaggle of men, and one woman, dressed like soldiers and armed to the teeth, slowly making their way past the children's home. The girl, probably no older than two was wearing diapers and nothing else. When the door opened a strange odor, something along the lines of a mixture of unwashed bodies, heavy incense, and rotten food, wafted from the room.

Corbin shook his head, feeling sorry for the two children, but unable to do anything for them. He imagined whatever conditions lie beyond the door were not uncommon amongst the deseparately poor that inhabited the city. Having nothing much to offer, he took a step forward to the kids, reached into one of his pouches and withdrew an unbroken chem-light. Cracking the hard plastic between his thumb and fingers, he shook it and held it out to the boy, motioning for him a give Phil the gun in exchange. When it started to light up, the boy's fear disappeared, replaced with a childish awe at the simplicity of the little peace offering. He handed over the pistol. Phil found it was real and loaded. Corbin handed two more sticks to the boy, motioning to share with his sister, then gently nudged them back into the apartment. When the children stepped back, he quickly pulled the door shut the moment they were clear.

Stepping back, he met Race's eyes. Exhaling, Phil raised his eyebrows at this friend, indicating that the situation could have turned out a lot worse. He unloaded the handgun and tucked it into Velk's assault pack.

Besides Race, both Jessie and Velk were watching him. The group was hunkered low and while the exchange between the American Intelligence Agent and curious, yet scared Somali children had only last a few brief minutes, the results could have been disasterours if enemy combatants had emerged or the boy had decided to raise his weapon at Phil or his team.

Regardless, Corbin met the looks of his team. With his fingers, he pointed at his eyes, then Velk, then the children's door, telling his man that he wanted him to keep an eye on the door as they moved to the next stairwell. With a confirmation nod, Velk moved the weapon in his arms to a move comfortable position.

Phil gave a nod, jerking his head to get them moving again. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips when they finally reached the ground floor unmolested. "According to the map, we need to head north." He stated when he pulled the electronic tablet from one of pouches on his vest to steal a quick peek. "Keep your intervals, but move quickly. Velk, don't let anyone get behind us. Got it?"

"Roger, Sir." Velk responded. He was carrying a M249 Squad Automatic Weapon.

Pulling the exterior door open, Phil felt the rush of heat blast through the portal. Even in the winter months, Mogadishu was hot and combined with the heavy gear and adrenaline, Corbin was already sweating.

Keying his communication device, Phil spoke into the mike that was integrated into the helmets that his team and the Green Berets were wearing. "Bravo Team, this is Alpha Team Leader. Over."

Dugger's voice bled through the earpieces. "Alpha Team Leader, this is Bravo Team Leader. Over."

"Bravo Team Leader, Alpha Team Leader. We are in position. Status? Over."

"In position. Over."

Dugger would lead his team south out of the adjacent building, then head east then north to converge on the same location where the satellite intel last tracked Jonny. The third and final team, the Green Berets that had been on the helicopter with Corbin and his team, would head south, west, then north.

They were attempting to cover and clear as much ground as possible, but with fighters already engaging local authorities and too few agents and soldiers, Corbin had been forced to compromise on the planning and make do with what they had. He only hoped it was enough and that the teams didn't get spread too far out or separated from each other if attacked.

Dugger answered, "In position." On cue, the door of the building across the street opened. It was a bit further back from Corbin's location, forcing the Director to kneel in the threshold and peer back in the door's direction. He felt Race standing over him, keeping his eyes, and his weapon, on the northern portion of the street.

"Bravo Team, this is Alpha Team Leader. Got you covered, Dug. Move out. Over."

Dugger's response was all professionalism. "Wilco."

"Good luck. Keep your heads down and watch your six." Corbin stated. "See you at the rally point. Out."

Corbin watched Dugger lead his team, consisting of Jade and four Special Forces soldiers from the building. When they had all exited and head off in their designated direction, Phil turned his head up to Race.

"We go north." He stood, turned and waved his front hand in the direction he wanted the team to move.

Race nodded.

"Move." Phil ordered and stepped outside.

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"Get down, Hotshot." Temple pulled Jonny out of the line of fire. Having rounded a corner of the shabby slum neighborhood, the pair ran smack dab in the middle of a firefight between the locals and the American Special Forces unit.

Bullets whizzed by, forcing Temple back in the direction they'd come. "Come on, we can cut through the alley back there."

Spinning, Temple pushed Jonny in front of him and retreated back down the way they had come. Making a sharp turn, they entered the alley in question, running as quickly as possible. Greg heard the gunfire recede in the distance, but he knew they had to keep moving, he didn't know if any of the men had caught a glimpse of him and Jonny before they'd moved back. He had to assume they did.

Weaving through the trash strewn alleyway, Temple forced himself to breathe through his mouth, trying his hardest not to let the pungent odors of the filthy city infiltrate his senses. It wasn't working very well.

"How much further?" Jonny asked when they reached another intersection.

"Not far." Temple answered, giving the blonde a shove to the right.

Minutes later, they arrived at the warlord's hideout from one of the back alley routes. Pushing through the door, Temple ignored the chaos as men ran up and down the hallway. He headed straight for the despot's office.

Stepping inside, he scowled. The local warlord was busy throwing items into an old hard sided suitcase; his silent bodyguard stood off to the side, but tensed and mumbled something to his superior. The warlord stopped.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Temple growled, stepping deeper into the office. "Why aren't you out there with your men?"

"American soldiers are here. I told you they would be a problem." The warlord refused to meet Greg's eyes.

' _Weakness and fear.'_ Temple frowned.

"So fight them anyways, you fucking coward." He responded with a deep growl.

"Watch your words, Mister Temple." The despot shot back, but he was hesitant in his speech.

"This isn't what we paid you for."

"You have not paid me at all. I plan to go with you to demand my payment from Doctor Zin."

Greg snorted in disgust. "You're in no position to make demands."

"If you think you can stop me,-" He started.

Greg saw the flicker in the warlord's eyes. Stepping back, Temple planted his feet and raised his rifle, swinging his body in the direction of the man's bodyguard.

The other man was also bringing his weapon to bear. Temple didn't hesitate. He aimed and squeezed the trigger. His AK-47 bucked against his shoulder, rounds pouring from the barrel as he filled the bodyguard with lead. The man's body jerked backwards, blood spraying from both his front and his back as the bullets tore through his flesh. Greg did not stop firing till the body slumped to the carpet.

Movement filled the corner of his eye. The warlord was raising his arm. Greg could see he was holding a large revolver; aiming straight at Greg's head.

Temple spun.

Loud cracks filled the room. Shots rang out. Greg flinched. As he turned, he saw the warlord being pounded by gunfire. The man's body bucked. The revolver slipped from his fingers and his body fell forward onto the desk and suitcase.

Temple glanced to the side. Jonny's stance was still tense. His firearm raised, still aimed at the man he'd just killed. The man that would have killed Greg.

"Thanks, Jonny." Temple smirked.

He watched Jonny move forward, still keeping his rifle on the dead man, just in case. Jonny rounded the large desk, then in one motion lowered his AK and grabbed the warlord's shirt with one hand, throwing the body back to the floor. Temple heard the thump of the fat man's body.

"What are you doing?" He asked when Jonny started rifling through the suitcase.

Jonny looked up briefly. He pulled a wad of rubber banded currency from the suitcase. Temple couldn't help noticing the spots of blood on some of the foreign notes. "Never hurts to have a little bit of extra funds." Jonny tossed the cash to Greg, who jammed it into his cargo pocket.

"And it's not like this asshole is going to need it." Jonny quipped as he shoved another wad of bills into his own pocket.

"Good thinking, Hotshot." Temple winked. "Now let's get moving. If any fighters find us here, we'll have to battle our way through them as well as the other forces. We need to rendezvous with Van Brandt."

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"Van Brandt." Dugger grumbled. He's just turned his team north. Pete, Jade, and one Green Beret were on one side of the street and the other three soldiers on the opposite side when the biochemist and four local gunmen bolted from a building up the street.

The former SAS man turned criminal was armed with an AK-47, as were his confederates and when his eyes shifted down the street, Dugger knew the Brit saw them.

"Open fire." Dugger slammed his shoulder against a rusted Toyota pickup truck, then propped the bio-pod of his M249, the same type of weapon Velk carried, on the vehicle's hood and started firing.

Fully automatic gunfire tore down the block with deadly speed. Van Brandt dove and barely made it out of the line of fire as Dugger, Jade, and the rest of the men engaged him.

Dugger watched as their enemy took up positions and he was about to signal to the soldiers to start bounding forward when more gunmen appeared from the rooftops.

"RPG!" Jade yelled.

Dugger had only a second to register the rocket screaming towards him. Turning, he broke off his engagement, wrapped his meaty arm around Jade and the duo dove back and to the ground. The Green Beret did the same. They'd barely made it out of the kill zone when the rocket slammed into the Toyota and exploded. The explosion rocked the street, blowing out windows where there was glass panes in the buildings and sending the truck skyward just to crash back to the ground moments later in a twists mass of burning metal.

Breathing heavily, Pete looked over at Jade. His ears were ringing. He managed to yell, "Are you okay?"

Jade must have heard him because she nodded.

Dugger was moving again at that point. Rolling onto his buttocks, he bent his legs and hauled himself back to his feet. The soldier with them was fine, as were the men across the street. But the gunmen remained and continued to fire.

Dugger and Jade found more cover, an old donkey cart that was overturned and stunk like hay and manure. It wouldn't hold up under intense fire, but it would do for now until they could move.

Distinct pops rang out, followed by quick explosions. Pete knew his men were firing 40MM rounds from M203 grenade launchers. A few screams could be heard over the gunfire, but still the enemy forces continued to appear and engage.

Dugger scowled. _'Just like 1993.'_

Pete pressed the button for his comms unit. "Alpha Team, this is Bravo Team. We're under heavy engagement. Van Brandt spotted. Over."

The Cajun closed his eyes against the rising haze of burning gunpowder. His earpiece crackled. "Bravo Team, this is Alpha Team Leader. Can you disengage?"

"Negative. Gunmen on the rooftops. We'll fight forward and attempt to capture the target. Over."

"Roger. Moving towards your position now. Hang in there. Over."

"Hurry the fuck up then." Peter growled. He wasn't being disrespectful to Corbin, he was just hyped up from being shot at.

"On our way, Dug. Out."

Pete snarled. Lying flat on his stomach, he inched around the edge of the donkey cart to take up a good firing position again. He wanted to keep eyes on Van Brandt, which shouldn't have been hard since he was the only Caucasian in the group, but when Dugger peered over the sights of his weapon, he saw the Brit was attempting to slink away under the protection of his fighters.

"Damnit." Dugger growled.

He changed tactics. Pushing himself to his feet, he motioned for Jade to do the same. Balancing his weapon on the overturned cart, he braced it, a sizable weapon that Dugger's large frame made look tiny, on the edge and opened fire. He heard Jade and the soldier doing the same.

From his peripheral vision he watched the other three men start to bound forward. Dugger continued to fire, some rounds finding their marks while others whizzed over the heads of their enemies, but he was preventing Van Brandt from fully retreating.

The gunmen quickly recovered and began to fire back at Dugger's position. As the wooden cart started to disintegrate under the intense onslaught of the combined firepower, Dugger had to think quickly.

Motioning for Jade and the other soldier to start bounding, Dugger held his position, providing covering fire. The bullets continued to rain down. He didn't have much time. Wood splintered and cracked. The Cajun huffed. When Jade and the Green Beret were in new positions, Dugger knelt down. Pulling a canister from his vest, the man was big enough to carry the containers on his body by himself, he went to work reloading his weapon. When the new canister was in place and the first links fed into the tray, he slammed the tray cover down and charged the weapon.

Dugger took a step, intending to swing around the cart. When he did he heard a clank. His eyes went wide when he saw a little round device that could be more devastating than getting torn to shreds by a hail of gunfire.

"Grenade!" He yelled, but he didn't think anyone else was in the kill radius.

Pete swept his foot forward and kicked the explosive back down the road, in the opposite direction of his team members. A second later the grenade detonated. Pete hit the ground, covering his face with his arms as shrapnel filled the air then shot back down to earth with deadly precision.

Ears ringing, Dugger's eyes burned as the dust and debris settled around him. Rolling onto his back, he coughed as he sat up. A quick examination showed he'd been lucky, damn lucky. No shrapnel wounds.

But he was exposed. The blast had torn chunks of the donkey cart apart, putting Dugger directly in the line of fire of the gunmen.

Kicking his feet up underneath him, he hopped back up, shook the cobwebs from his spinning head and bounded forward, coming up next to Jade before the shooters could take a bead on the big man.

Kneeling next to her, he saw the woman was actively trying to fire at the men, but she wasn't doing a very good job.

He saw her look at him with a smirk, "Your ears are bleeding." She stated.

"I'll live." Dugger replied, perhaps a bit too loud. Peering around the edge of his new cover, his eyes searched for Van Brandt, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

"Damnit. Did you see Van Brandt?" Dugger asked, ducking down to avoid another hail of bullets.

Jade shook her head in response.

"Fuck." Dugger grumbled. "Just keep firing. We need to take these guys out and find that asshole again."

Jade nodded and did as the Cajun said.

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Jessie's chest was on fire, but she kept pace with her dad regardless. Running forward, the team was moving to join up with Dugger and Jade who were, according to Dugger's report, pinned down under heavy fire.

The problem was that the local fighters weren't making it easy for them to reach the entrenched team's location.

Coming up on a T-intersection, Jessie watched as Phil rounded the corner to the right, but immediately duck back as bullets tore chunks of bricks and stone out of the wall next to him.

Race reached forward, grabbed Phil by the chest strap of his vest and hauled him back, almost pulling the other man off his feet in the process.

"Stop running balls to the wall into enemy positions." Race barked. Jessie noted the tone of her father's voice was serious, but also had a hint of humor in it. "I won't always be here to pull your dumb ass out of the fire."

' _Humor in the face of death. How they do it is beyond me.'_ Jessie said inside her head.

"We have to get to Dugger." Phil yelled, when Race released him.

"Can we hook around?" Jessie asked, wanting to contribute.

"That could take too much time." Race answered.

She heard shouting and more gunfire. Whoever had shot at Phil was running towards them. Jessie felt her dad's hand on her shoulder, pushing her back against the wall as Phil motioned Velk forward. She watched him signal his intentions, remembering the silent signals he'd taught her during her training.

Velk nodded then got down on the ground. He eased the barrel of his weapon around the corner, propped up by the bipod, and started firing. Jessie watched Phil straddle his man's torso with his feet, lean out and fire as well.

"What are they doing?" Jessie yelled to her father.

"Buying time." Race responded.

Phil leaned back, but Velk continued to engage the enemy.

"There's at least a dozen coming from that direction. That I could see." Phil reported to Race.

"We need to split up then." Race suggested.

"Negative, we stay together." Phil countered. He pulled his tablet out of his pocket, the device displaying the schematics of the city. "Let's take Jessie's suggestion. We can cut through the back alley one block back and over, then move on Dug's position from the opposite direction."

"We can radio him when we are in position. Eliminate cross-fire. Then take the enemy from behind." Race nodded.

Phil tucked the device back in his pouch, then quickly reloaded his weapon. Jessie watched her father do the same. While Jessie carried a rifle, she'd yet to fire it. She shifted her shoulders, making sure the butt of the M4 was still snug just in case she did have to shoot.

Phil leaned down and smacked Velk's helmet a few times. "Let's go, Matt."

Jessie heard the young Agent grunt as he pushed himself back to his feet. Jessie realized she was smirking; she watched with awe as her father and his friends engaged in professional conduct, while at the same time something as simple as a smack on the helmet brought a smile to her face, something that should be completely foreign in the heat of battle. But to these men, it came off as natural. Jessie didn't think she'd ever get used to observing such behavior.

Seconds later they were ready to move. Phil stepped to the front of the column again, moving back to the point man position. As he passed Jessie, he held out his left fist towards her. Again, she smiled and bumped his fist.

' _Never get used to this.'_ She grinned, watching her father engage in the same fist bumping with Corbin.

' _Hell, go with it, girl.'_ She told herself, then turned back and fist bumped Velk.

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Jonny hovered just to the side and behind Temple. His mentor was pressed against the interior wall, staring out the dirt streaked window as best he could. The sound of gunfire was loud just outside the building they had slipped into as to avoid a group of soldiers that had been advancing in their direction.

"What do you see?" Jonny asked when he heard Temple curse under his breath.

Temple finally peeled his eyes away from the window to look back. Jonny didn't like the look; he'd never seen Temple worried, but he was worried now.

"We have to make a break separately, Hotshot." Temple stated.

Jonny started to protest, but Temple cut him off with a raised hand. "We have a better chance of getting to the rendezvous point if we split up. Those guys are out there are good and they're quickly gaining ground against the locals. If they come up on us together it could be disastrous. David is only going to wait so long."

"I don't like this plan, Greg." Jonny grumbled.

"Neither do I, but it's the best way for both of us to get there. We're only a couple blocks away and the fighters have moved to the roofs to protect the chokepoint at the T-intersection down the road. From their positions they can pin down our enemy and pick them off one by one. If we try and go toe to toe with professional soldiers and I-1 Agents, will get bogged down in a gun battle and Van Brandt will leave. It's the only way, kid."

"Alright, but I'm not leaving you behind, Greg. If I make it there first, I'll make Van Brandt wait." Jonny declared, puffing his chest out a bit as he spoke.

He saw Greg smile. He liked it when he could make Temple smile. "Likewise, Hotshot."

"Okay, so what's the plan?"

"I'll draw these guys off." Temple stated with a nod at the window. "You make your way out the back and through the alley. Come up just a couple blocks north. The rendezvous is at the end of the road, the edge of the city's limits. From there, we'll disappear."

"Alright." Jonny nodded.

"Good luck, kid. And see you in a few." Temple gave him a smack on the shoulder.

Jonny watched his mentor heft his rifle, shoulder through the door and step out into the street. Out into the battle.

Jonny resisted the sudden urge to say damn the plan and follow after Greg. Inhaling and exhaling a number of deep breaths, he counted to ten then made his way towards the other exit.

Stepping outside, Jonny could heard the sounds of the battles on the streets. Stepping off, he started to run towards the direction of the rendezvous point and safety.

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Pushing forward, Race willed himself to remain patient. He kept hearing Dugger's reports in his ear, and Phil's subsequent responses, and when the Cajun reported that they'd broken through the lines of the fighters they were engaged in, Race was relieved.

Phil immediately rerouted the group, stating they'd meet up with Dugger at the next checkpoint since the other agent was once again advancing forward.

As they rounded the corner of a vacant street, Race saw the road they were on stretched forward a number of blocks. At the end was another perpendicular street. An open, sand covered field lie beyond the road; the city limits. A few rusted out cars and piles of scrap metal filled the field, but for the most part there was nothing there as Mogadishu ended.

Their intel indicated that Temple was holed up somewhere close, but they couldn't get an exact location on the man, or Jonny for that matter, as there was too much interference from the slew of enemy combatants still running around the city. Most of the local fighters had been killed or had thrown down their weapons in retreat. But the most hardened men still remained and were proving to be quite a challenge for the agents and the Green Berets.

As they approached the next intersection, a massive wall of lead rained down on them from the rooftops. The fighters had been lying in wait for them.

Race grabbed his daughter and jerked her down behind an abandoned vehicle on the side of the road. Phil and Velk were doing the same. Amazingly, none of them had been hit; the gunmen having opted for massive fire, versus precision sniper shots.

' _Lucky for us,'_ Race mused. If the men had waited to fire, at least one of Race's comrades would be dead. He didn't want to think about that, especially since Jessie was one of those comrades.

"Fuck!" Phil yelled as rounds pelted the vehicle they were huddled against.

Race moved to the edge and started shooting back towards the rooftops, aiming for any fighter that was brave enough, or stupid enough, to pop up and show Race his head. Race managed to take out at least three, but from the amount of gunfire, he imagined the rooftops were crawling with opposition. If they stayed here without backup they'd be dead.

He heard the sweet sound of Dugger's thick Cajun accent in his ear at that moment. "We're moving up to your position. ETA one mike."

"Thank god for burly Cajuns!" Race grinned.

"No shit." Phil agreed as Velk took up a good position and started firing.

Less than a minute later, Dugger's team arrived.

Phil motioned for them to move to cover and start engaging the enemy on the rooftops.

Race lost himself in the battle. Gunfire, burning gunpowder, clanks of shell casings hitting the ground, pops of bullets hitting the metal hood of the car, glass shattering, men yelling in multiple languages. He was so in the zone, he almost missed the movement up the street at ground level.

"Temple!" Race hollered when he saw his adversary step out into the street.

Before he knew what he was doing, Race was on his feet and running through the shower of bullets. He wasn't letting Temple get away, not this time. And if Temple was close, that meant Jonny was too.

"Race, come back!" Phil shouted. He leaned forward in an attempt to grab Race but was forced back down behind their makeshift cover by another volley of gunfire.

Race didn't seem to care about the gunfire exploding all around him, his eyes were locked on the fleeing form of Greg Temple.

Determination, combined with rage, propelled Race forward. He was quickly closing the distance with Temple, who glanced over his shoulder, sneered and then shouldered through a wooden door into a building near the end of the street.

Race didn't slow his stride and barreled into the door only seconds after Temple. Wood cracked and splintered and Race lunched into Temple's surprised body, slamming the big man against the stone wall of the tiny room they'd entered. Decayed stones crumbled from their combined weight, rubble and dust pouring over the two sweat drenched enemies. Hearing a rush of breath escape his foe, Race wrapped his arms around Greg's midsection, twisted and tossed the man to the side, sending Temple crashing to the floor. Both Race's rifle and Temple's were lost under the pile of rubble.

"This ends now, Greg." Race growled. He pulled his sidearm and aimed it at his former friend.

Covered in dust and debris, Temple coughed and spit as he stood. "You're going to regret that, Racer."

"Surrender and we'll get you help. The nerve gas made you into what you are, this isn't you, man."

Greg snorted and spat a wad of blood. "Fuck you and your help, Bannon. This is me…always has been…you were just too stupid to see the truth."

"Surrender and give up Jonny. It's the only way. I don't want to kill you, Greg."

Temple laughed bitterly. "Yes you do…but you won't." He lunched forward, swiping at Race's hands, knocking the pistol free, sending it skidding across the floor. Temple pulled a combat knife from his vest.

Temple was older, but he was still built like a brick wall and he was surprisingly fast. Race sidestepped the attack, but Greg anticipated it and pulled back at the last moment. With a lightning fast spin, Temple swung his arm and the blade in a backhanded attack towards Race's face. Raising his arm to protect himself, Temple's razor sharp knife sliced into Race' forearm, causing him to wince and stumble backwards.

"That's right, Racer." Greg laughed. "Don't forget who trained you, you ungrateful bastard. Everyone things you're so great, the infamous I-1 man, Race fucking Bannon, but I'm the man that made you into that legend and I know exactly what you're going to do."

"Really?" Race mocked as he studied the man's movements. "If that's the case, then why did you feel the need to beat and torture me? Your glory days are over, Greg. You're beaten and broken and you'll never be better than me. I know you're dying, Greg. Give up so we can help you or whatever is killing you won't matter. I'll kill you right here, right now."

"Get off your high horse, you fucking Boy Scout. You don't know anything about me." Greg snarled as he spun the bloody blade in his hand. "But I proved I still have what it takes. I proved it by training that Quest brat and making him into a man just like me. And I made him better than even you."

"You son of a bitch."

Laughing, Greg continued, "That kid is amazing and it's great that he's not an uptight douche like you. He never had his mind warped by the patriotic bullshit of Intelligence One like you."

"No, you just fed him the bullshit of The Consortium." Race growled.

"That's not all I fed him. He's got a taste for the nose candy and hookers now." Greg laughed.

"You fucking asshole." Race spat. He broke into a sprint; his forward progress propelling him straight at Temple. Slashing outward to ward him off, Temple back peddled when Race didn't react to the swipe. Instead, Race grasp Greg's arm and planted his feet. The sudden stop of his momentum caught Temple off guard and Race dropped to a knee and twisted his body throwing Temple over his shoulder. But Race didn't let go, instead he hung on to his opponent's forearm then repositioned his hand to twist Temple's wrist the moment the startled man hit the ground. Dropping the knife, Temple yelped in pain, but bucked his hips, pulled his legs up, then thrust them upward into Race's groin.

Race staggered, let go of Temple and fell. Scrambling back to his knees, Greg grabbed the knife and sprang at Race, who was in the process of standing. Crouching Race let Temple hit him and grabbed the man's shirt, fell to his back, and flipped him over his head.

Crashing into the wall, Temple groaned and shook his head. Streaks of blood ran down his face from his hair. "You fucker, Bannon." He shouted.

Standing, Greg sheathed the knife, then lashed out with his fists. An exchange of anger and hate driven flurries ensued as each man connected, blocked, and connected again. While Temple was just as strong, Race was still younger, and his onslaught of hits was quickly wearing the older man down. Pushing Temple backwards, Race sneered as he spun and landed a roundhouse kick with his thick combat boots squarely to Temple's jaw, sending the man staggering and crashing back into the busted door to sprawl out on the street.

Following, Race's face was all business, but he was amazed to see that not only was Greg still conscious after the wicked kick and subsequent fall, but he was already pushing himself up with his hands, attempting to get back to his feet.

"Give up, Temple."

"Fuck off." Greg scowled, blood dripping from his busted lips and nose.

Race shook his head. He came up behind the wounded man, reached down to grab the back of Temple's shirt and hauled him to his feet. As he did, Greg dropped back to the ground, twisted, and attacked. The surprise move caught Race off guard and Temple's legs connected with Race's in a perfectly executed leg sweep.

Falling to the ground, Race groaned as Temple jumped onto his chest and started striking Race in the face with his fists and elbows. "I told you I'd know what your moves would be." Greg growled through a bloody grin. Race twisted, grabbed Temple's arms and threw him off to the side.

Bouncing up on the balls of his feet, Temple recovered and quickly positioned himself behind Race as the white-haired man tried to stand. Wrapping an arm around Race's neck, Temple put his old protégé in a tight choke hold, then used his other hand to pull his knife again.

Race growled and pulled at Temple's arm, struggling for air. Snarling, Greg drove his knee into Race's back the moment he had his knife free and as Race turned to fight, Greg lashed out, his blade connected with the side of Race's neck. Staggering, Race's hand shot up to quell the bleeding; Greg's blade had missed his artery by mere inches.

Wavering to his feet, Race feinted that he was finished and as his legs shook, Temple moved in for the kill. A wicked, evil grin on his face, Temple's fingers coiled and uncoiled around the hilt of his blade as he stalked forward.

"I told you, Racer, you can't kill me." He spat, his eyes filled with a look of pure hate. "You're finished. But don't worry, I'll make sure the rest of your little band of do-gooders, to include that bitch daughter of yours, meet the same fate."

Falling to one knee, Race dropped one of his hands away from his bleeding neck. He kept his eyes locked with Temple's and as the deranged traitor pounced, Race pulled the knife he'd hidden in his boot. Bounding upward, he sneered as Temple realized his mistake too late, and Race buried the blade in the underside of Greg's chin.

"I told you once you didn't have the balls to take me, Greg." Race growled, then violently ripped the blade down and free, opening Temple's throat. "And guess what, you fucking asshole, I am better than you. I always have been. And now…you're fucking dead."

As Temple sank to his knees, Race watched his old friend's painful, but well-deserved death with no emotion. Thrusting his boot forward, Race kicked Greg in the chest, sending him sprawling to his back, his hands falling away from his throat. Blood and saliva shot up out of Temple's partially open mouth like a geyser, while blood poured from the open wound in his neck. With one final spasm, he twisted painfully and died.

Closing his eyes, Race shook his head. Temple had forced his hand. His mind became aware that the gun battle between The Consortium's hired fighters and Race's I-1 comrades was dying down. Random gunfire still echoed through the streets, but the intensity of the battle was gone.

He opened his eyes to look at the body of a man that he'd once consider a friend and mentor. "Damn you, Greg."

As he stared into Temple's lifeless eyes, Race heard a crack and pain shot through his upper back, just below his shoulder blade. Staggering forward, he grunted and dropped the boot knife.

"What the..." He mumbled as he turned.

Eyes wide, he saw the boy he'd spent the last months of his life searching for; he saw Jonny Quest.

Jonny took another step forward, a scowl on his face and a FNX 9mm semi-automatic pistol in his hand. Race raised his hands towards the blonde, "Jonny, what are you doing?" He grimaced against the pain of the gunshot wound in his back.

Jonny fired again, the round hitting Race in the upper leg. Race cried out in pain as his leg collapsed beneath him and he hit the dusty, dirty street next to the body of the man he'd just killed. His mind overcome with confusion.

"You, bastard." Race heard Jonny scoff. "You killed him. You, fucking asshole, you killed Greg!"

"Jonny, it's me, it's Race." Race pleaded through gritted teeth. He realized he had no weapon, no way to defend himself. But he shouldn't have to, this was Jonny. This was the boy that he'd spent more than a decade protecting. The boy that had just shot him twice and still pointed a loaded gun at him.

"I know who the fuck you are, Bannon." Jonny said and fired again, the round smacking into Race's torso just below his body armor, sending him flat to his back.

"Why?" Race managed to ask as Jonny stood over him and pointed the weapon at his head.

"You killed Temple. You killed my mentor." The deadness in Jonny's voice frightened Race even worse than his impending death. "First you killed my mother and now Temple."

"What?" Race's mind couldn't process what Jonny was saying. _'His mother? Rachel?'_ Jonny wasn't making any sense. "No. Lies. Temple lied to you." His words were so low, his breathing so labored, Race didn't know if he'd even spoken out loud.

"Shut up." Jonny growled and tightened his grip on the pistol.

Race kept his eyes on Jonny, even though his lids were heavy and his vision cloudy. He wouldn't close his eyes. If Jonny was going to kill him, Race was determined to make the boy stare into his eyes as he took the life of the man that had dedicated himself to protecting the young man.

But Jonny didn't fire. He stared at Race for a few moments. His face was still filled with hate, his heavy breathing accentuating his build up rage. But still Jonny didn't fire.

Race didn't know how long they stared into each other's eyes, but eventually Jonny turned his head and spat. He lowered his weapon. Race couldn't feel anything except the blood pouring out of his body. Jonny turned away. Race somehow managed to turn his head to the side. He didn't know if the images he saw were real or a concoction of his dying mind, but he watched Jonny slowly kneel next to Temple. With a gentleness that wasn't there moments ago, Jonny set his weapon on the ground and took Greg's lifeless hand in his own. Race thought the boy was crying.

"No." Race moaned. He must have spoken the word because Jonny turned to look at him. The boy was crying. He was crying for Temple. It didn't make any sense.

"Greg." The man's name slipped from Jonny's lips and it confirmed Race's worst fears. Temple had indeed turned Jonny.

"Jonny." Race whispered, but his head was getting foggier with each passing moment. He could feel the blood pouring from the holes Jonny had put into him. His breathing became erratic and his fear, not of death, but of failure, caused his breathing to increase and his heart race. His failure was killing him and as he let his mind give in to his body, he tore his eyes from the boy.

Staring at the clear blue sky, Race closed his eyes.

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Jessie felt like her heart was torn from her chest. She'd been given a front row view of the battle between her father and Greg Temple and the subsequent shooting of her dad by none other than Jonny Quest. The blonde had emerged from the far end of the street and had gunned her father down like he was nothing more than a rabid animal.

And then to Jessie's horror, Jonny knelt down next to the man that Race had killed.

"Jonny! No!" She screamed.

She tried to step around the vehicle, to rush the scene, but Phil held her back. Gunmen were still on the rooftops, preventing them from moving forward.

"Let go of me!" Jessie shouted, but Phil wasn't listening to her.

Velk crawled over to them. Head right next to Phil's, Jessie heard Phil issuing orders to the young agent. "Lase that fucking building right now. I don't care how fucking close we are."

"Yes, Sir." Velk spoke while shouldering off his assault pack. With an efficiency Jessie couldn't help but notice, even in her distraught state, Velk propped a laser device onto the hood of the vehicle and pointed it at the building.

Phil was once again speaking, but this time into his radio. Jessie refused to stop struggling, no matter how difficult it made Phil's job. She had to get to her dad and to Jonny.

"Light those fuckers up." Phil shouted into his radio. He then wrapped his arms completely around Jessie and forced her down. He hooked his legs over hers, pulled her against his chest and pressed his back against the side of the vehicle. Jessie saw Velk do the same.

Jessie heard the whooping blades of the approaching aircraft. Phil's arms tightened around her, crisscrossed over her chest. Her hands were clamped on his forearms, her fingers digging into his skin. She felt him press his hands against the sides of her head around the edges of her helmet, against her ears. She knew he was sacrificing his own health, his own hearing, to protect her.

She started to cry the moment the CIA attack helicopters screamed onto the scene and rained down automatic fire onto the targeted building. Shells bigger than her hands poured down all around them, bouncing off the vehicle, rolling along the street as they fell from the mini gun in the Apache's nose.

The first helicopter passed overhead; it was so low Jessie imagined she could reach up and touch it. A second made its approach and fired onto the building, strafing any surviving gunmen, mowing them down.

"Target's eliminated." She heard the pilot's voices crackling from her earpiece.

"Move!" Phil ordered.

Jessie broke free from his hold the moment she felt his hands leave her head. She heard him grunt as she kicked her legs out and up, bounding to her feet.

"Jessie!" He shouted, but she ignored him.

Dropping her rifle, Jessie made a beeline towards the gruesome battle scene, her eyes locked on Jonny. On the man she loved. Every step she took drew her closer to him, yet the street seemed to grow, getting longer and longer the further down it she ran. They were at the end of the street, at least three blocks down and Jessie thought she'd never reach the end.

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Jonny heard a vehicle screech to a halt behind him a moment before strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders.

"We have to go." Van Brandt shouted, pulling Jonny to his feet.

"No!" Jonny protested.

"We have to go now, Jonny!" Van Brandt said again and pointed. "They're coming."

Jonny's eyes went to the direction the man was pointing and he saw what Van Brandt was seeing. A group of people was running straight for them, American soldiers and I-1 Agents, carrying rifles and automatic weapons. He knew at least two of them, Director Corbin and Jezebel Jade. The others were random soldiers and two I-1 men Jonny didn't think he knew. A redhead led the pack.

The redhead.

Jessie.

Jessie Bannon.

Jonny sneered.

"Come on!" Van Brandt shouted again.

Jonny picked up his handgun as he got to his feet. "What about Temple?"

"We have to leave him." Van Brandt said.

"No!" Jonny spun and pointed the handgun at the Brit. "We're not leaving him."

"He's dead, Jonny!"

The thudding boots of their adversaries was drawing closer.

"Pick him up. We take him with us. I promised him I wouldn't leave him. He was your friend too, damnit."

Van Brandt sneered, but reached down and picked the dead man up, tossing his body over his shoulder. "Now, come on!"

Jonny turned back. The others were only a block away now. He snarled, raised his handgun and fired wildly at the group. He watched them hit the ground, scrambling for cover. The smaller of the two nameless I-1 men spun and fell, his forward momentum causing him to skid and roll as he took one of Jonny's rounds in the chest. He saw Corbin dive into Jessie, grabbing the girl off her feet and hit the ground, rolling away from the oncoming gunfire Jonny threw at them.

Back peddling, Jonny continued to keep the group pinned down as Van Brandt loaded Temple's body into the back of the Land Rover. When the Brit slammed the door shut, Jonny jumped into the passenger seat as Van Brandt got back behind the wheel.

Firing, Jonny unloaded the weapon completely as Van Brandt got the vehicle moving, speeding away from their pursuers.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

 **Author's Notes: To my readers, I apologize for any strife my last chapter may have caused.**

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Phil couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed. His mind strained to process the information, but as soon as he came upon Race he focused on the task at hand.

Dropping to his knees, he began to assess his friend. The white haired man was alive, but his breathing was low and his eyes were closed.

Dugger knelt down next to him, "MEDEVAC is already in the air, Sir." The Cajun reported.

Phil heard him, but didn't take his eyes from Race. "Velk was hit too."

"He's fine. Took the round in the plate." Dugger said and as if to confirm Velk was there a second later.

Phil pushed his hands under Race's body armor, searching for the wounds. He dished out orders to his men as he did, "Dugger, take charge. Find that vehicle. It can't have gone far. Have our satellites track it. I want to know where they are going. Don't let out of your sight. Not this time, damnit. Take Velk and the soldiers with you."

"Yes, Sir." Both agents replied as one. They were up and moving to fulfill their orders.

Phil was vaguely aware that Jessie and Jade were hovering over him.

Corbin looked up at Jade. She was shaking, "Jade, snap out of it. Signal the helicopter." He jerked his head towards the horizon where a faint black dot grew larger with each passing second.

"What?" She blinked.

"Get it on the ground," Phil pointed towards the open field across the road. He handed her a smoke grenade. "Over there. Pop this and toss it to signal the MEDEVAC."

Jade took the smoke grenade and did as Phil instructed. Daring to glance up again, he saw his agents and the soldiers moving away. He also watched Jade toss the grenade. Purple smoke began to fill the air.

"Help him!" Jessie cried in Phil's ear.

Phil tore Race's vest off then ripped his shirt open, exposing Race's wounds; his battered body having been both slashed and shot was a bloody mess. "Fuck." He grumbled then went to work as the helicopter approached; Race was bleeding from so many different spots, Phil wasn't sure where to begin.

Pushing down Race's torso, Phil worked to quell the bleeding where Jonny's bullet had opened up Race's stomach. Jade joined him a moment later. "It's landing."

Phil looked over and saw the UH-60 touch down, the side door sliding open as the crew chief jumped out and waved them over.

Groaning, Race's eyes fluttered open. "Wha..."

"Stay still, Bannon." Phil remarked. Standing, he handed his rifle off, then in one fluid motion, crouched and pulled Race up and over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. Phil could feel all two-hundred and twenty pounds of a barely conscious Race Bannon on his shoulders, his own muscles burning while he quickly moved towards their waiting transport.

Reaching the running helicopter, the crew chief leaned out and assisted Phil in setting Race down then pulled the wounded man inside. As Jade climbed in, Phil looked back and saw Jessie, who had followed him to the waiting Blackhawk, had turned and was moving back in the direction that Jonny had fled; she was carrying Phil's rifle.

"One minute." He yelled to the crew chief and waved back at Jessie.

"Hurry." The helmeted man yelled back.

Spinning, Phil sprinted after the enraged daughter of Race Bannon. As he reached her side, he clamped his hands down on the rifle and tore it from her grasp. "Leave it be, Jessie."

"Fuck that, Phil." Jessie spat. "I'm going after him."

"Your dad needs you more." Phil replied as he slung the weapon over his back and wrapped the protesting Jessie into his arms, lifting her off the ground.

"Let go of me, Corbin." Jessie shrieked, kicking her legs and pounding her fists into his arms and shoulders.

Phil ignored her protests and carried her back to the helicopter. "Let go of me." She yelled again as the crew chief reached out to snag the shoulder strap on Phil's vest, hauling them both aboard. The moment they were inside the crew chief closed the door and the aircraft lifted off the ground.

"No!" Jessie screamed as Phil let go. She pushed him in the chest, but her protests were futile, they were already airborne.

"Calm down." Phil barked. He stared into her eyes for the briefest of seconds. He couldn't imagine what she was going through. It was hard enough for him to process, so he knew Jessie was devastated. "Calm down." He said again.

The space was cramped and when he saw her exhale he turned his back to her.

Phil removed his gloves and the rifle from his back to work with the flight medic to save Race's life.

Ripping his helmet off, he tossed it aside, replacing it with an internal headset, and started communicating with the medic, telling the man about Race's injuries. Phil smacked a bandage on Race's neck, securing it with white tape. He felt Jessie inch closer behind him, forcing him to move to block her view.

As the medic worked on the gunshot in Race's shoulder, the bullet had gone straight through, Phil pulled his knife. Placing the blade under the cuff of Race's pant leg, he slid the blade up and through the fabric, exposing Race's leg. Finding the bleeding wound wasn't hard. Grabbing some bandages from the medic's work station, Phil wiped the blood away. The round had hit Race in the muscles of his upper quadriceps, away from his femoral artery. For that, Phil said a silent thank you. Wiping his hands on his own pants to remove the blood, Phil reached under Race's leg. He didn't feel any exit wound; the round was still inside. Shaking his head, he spoke to the medic, telling the man what he discovered then wrapped a bandage around Race's thick, muscled leg.

Even with the headset on, Phil could hear Jessie crying. He couldn't risk looking back at her. Not yet. He still had work to do.

He moved to the torso wound next and Phil watched Race's eyelids fluttered. "Come on, Bannon. Don't you fucking die on me!" He growled even though he knew his friend probably couldn't hear him.

His hands moving across Race's body, Phil found the exit wound in the upper back. Pressing on the entry wound, Phil motioned to the medic that they'd have to turn him. The man nodded. Together, Phil worked with the medic to roll Race to the side. Holding onto his friend, he let the medic clear and seal the wound on the big man's back. Setting him back down, Phil was about to start bandaging the entry wound when Race's chest started to heave. His back arched and his eyes shot open. He was struggling for air.

"His lung is collapsing." Phil yelled. He tore into the medical supplies.

"Dad! What's happening to him?" Jessie cried.

Phil felt her pressing against his back. "Jade, hold her back." He yelled over his shoulder. He couldn't have Jessie interfering.

Jade mumbled something and Phil felt Jessie scoot back.

The medic placed his hand on Race's shoulders, holding him down as Phil ripped open a package and withdrew a large needle. He was on the side of Race's injury and it would be easier for him to perform the procedure than the medic.

Even as his mind sped at a hundred miles an hour, Phil's hands were steady. This wasn't the first time he'd had to perform first aid in the field, but it was the first time he was doing it to his best friend with the man's daughter present.

Phil glided his fingers over Race's chest, counting ribs. Race was pretty much all muscle, so when Phil found the appropriate location over the lung, he had to jam the needle hard to pierce through Race's pec.

As the needle entered, Race bucked a little. Phil didn't pay it any mind. Pulling the needle free, but ensuring the cannula like device was firmly lodged in Race's chest, Phil concentrated on connecting the apparatus to create a valve to open up Race's lung. Once complete he watched Race's breathing return to normal. He disposed of the needle appropriately.

But Race was still bleeding and that was not good.

He went back to tending Race's gunshot wound while the medic prepared an IV. Race groaned when the medic inserted the needle into his arm. Phil sighed. They had to keep him alive long enough to get him to surgery. _'What the hell was taking so long?'_

With the IV inserted and the blood bag hung from a hook on the ceiling, Phil tilted Race's head back. He smeared an NG tube with lubricant and ran it into Race's nose, just one more measure to help Race breathe.

Race began to shake. Phil felt Jessie and Jade panicking behind him. "What's going on?" Jessie screamed as she tried to edge next to Phil again.

Corbin raised an arm and pushed her back, not letting her get close to her father.

Grabbing the aircraft's portable defibrillator the medic placed leads on Race's chest then pressed the paddles to his skin, mindful of the breathing tube in his lung. Phil moved, ensuring he was clear, as the other man zapped Race's chest full of electricity.

Phil removed his headset, leaned down and started administering CPR, breathing into his friend's mouth. He watched as Race's vitals continued to drop. Raising his voice he shouted, "Come on, Race. Don't you fucking die on us! You're Race 'Mother Fucking' Bannon! You're not allowed to die!"

The sobs of his goddaughter filled his ears, even over the drone of the helicopter and the beeping of the medical equipment. Phil finally turned and wrapped his arms around the distraught young woman, his eyes momentarily meeting Jade's; she too was in tears.

Looking back at Race, Phil watched as the flight medic increased the voltage, waiting just long enough before zapping Race again. Phil let go of Jessie and went back to CPR. After what felt like an endless eternity of shocks and breaths, the monitor indicated Race's heart had started again. Setting the paddles aside, the men went back to work on assessing and caring for the wounded Bannon.

Phil wasn't sure how long they'd been in flight when he felt the wheels of the aircraft touch down. After a few moments, the door was thrown open and a handful of men and women wearing scrubs, a stretcher between them, reached in and pulled Race out, careful of his IV.

The medic went with them. Phil leaned out to yell in one of the Doctor's ears. "The medic knows everything."

The Doc nodded quickly, his stethoscope already in his ears and checking Race as the crew carried him towards the doors of the CIA's clandestine medical facility.

In a crouch, he watched them depart. Once they disappeared through the swinging doors, taking Race straight to surgery, Phil finally allowed himself a chance to exhale. He glanced down at his hands, they were caked in blood. Race's blood. His best friend's blood. His clothing was too, as well as his forearms. He fell backwards onto his rear.

He took a moment to compose himself before turning towards Race's daughter. Wrapping her up in his arms, he held the girl to his chest. As the aircraft started to power down, he spoke, "He'll be alright, Jessie. You'll see, your father will be alright."

Jessie held him tighter than she had when she'd revealed her secrets back at the farmhouse. She cried deeply. Her breaths uneven and heaving as she was overwhelmed with emotions.

"He'll be okay. I know he will." Phil said again. He stroked her hair in an attempt to calm her down. He had to be the strong one for all of them.

His eyes found Jade. The woman was also in tears, shaking just as uncontrollably as Jessie. Phil set his own feelings for the woman aside. Keeping one arm on Jessie, holding her against him, he reached out and took Jade's hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. Their eyes met. He watched Jade bite her bottom lip, trying to appear strong. Her hand tightened on his.

The three sat like that for some time. Eventually, Phil noticed that the helicopter had powered down completely; the crew chief and pilots respectfully maneuvering around the trio.

Phil spoke again, "Let's head inside and find out what's going on."

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Once they were on the open road, Jonny climbed over the seat into the back of the moving vehicle, not caring that he accidently kicked Van Brandt's arm in the process.

With the rear seats flat, Jonny was able to move next to the body of his mentor. Temple was definitely dead. His eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Greg." Jonny mumbled, taking the man's hand in his own. He was still warm, but that wouldn't last. "We should have never split up. Damnit, I should have stopped you, you stubborn bastard."

Jonny placed a hand on Greg's forehead. He leaned forward and placed his head on the big man's still chest. The scent of the blood filled his nostrils, it didn't bother him. Slowly, he raised his head and looked into the man's lifeless face. Jonny found his hand sliding into his pocket, his fingers curling around the metal object he kept there. Pulling it out, Jonny flipped the coin around in his palm. It was the coin Greg had given him back at the training camp. _'How long ago was that now?'_ For the life of him, Jonny couldn't remember.

His eyes wandered around the interior of the vehicle. He saw an old wool blanket towards the back. Jonny had to yank it out from beneath Temple's legs, but he managed to secure it and place it over Greg's chest and neck, covering the ghastly wound Race had caused.

Jonny moved his fingers on Greg's eyelids to close them. It was harder to do than the movies made it look, but he managed. He then pulled the blanket up over the man's head.

Looking forward, he caught Van Brandt studying him from the rearview mirror.

"I'm sorry, Jonny. Greg was a good man." The Brit offered.

"He didn't deserve to die like that." Jonny agreed. With a huff, he stowed the coin back in his pocket, "Where are we headed?"

"It's safe to assume that I-1 is tracking this vehicle."

"We're not being followed." Jonny countered, his head turning back to stare out the rear window. They were alone on the dusty road.

"Satellites." Van Brandt stated.

Jonny scowled. He should have known the spy organization would have satellites watching them. It pissed him off.

Van Brandt continued. "We'll head north, but we'll have to switch vehicles. We'll find a vessel to carry us through the Suez Canal into the Mediterranean Sea then onward through the Straits of Gibraltar. If need be, The Consortium can pick us up, but we might be safer making the voyage completely by sea. If we cross into International Waters, it'll be more difficult for I-1 to board us."

"We take Temple with us the entire journey. No arguments, Van Brandt." Jonny demanded.

His tone must have made it clear because the Brit simply nodded. "I'll make arrangements at the port for him."

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Jessie's entire body was numb. She barely remembered Phil leading her off the helicopter into the facility. She couldn't recall where she'd gotten the bottle of water that she cupped in her hands; she assumed Phil had given it to her. Maybe it had been Jade. Maybe one of the random CIA people that passed her in the hall. She didn't know.

She was aware that it had been over three hours since her father was taken into surgery. Her mind continued to flip flop on whether that was a good sign or a bad one.

Staring at the barren wall across from where she sat, Jessie barely registered what was happening all around her. She heard Phil's voice off to the side, speaking hurriedly into his phone. She assumed he was talking to the agents that went after Jonny in Mogadishu. Or maybe he was talking to his people in Germany; or in D.C. She couldn't tell. Glancing at him, Jessie saw he was still wearing his tactical vest and holding his rifle. She found that odd. An armed man pacing the halls of a hospital, even if it was a CIA hospital.

Jade was somewhere close. Jessie was grateful the woman was giving her some space. Jessie's feelings for Jade had never changed and even now, she couldn't find it in her heart to open up to the woman, even though she knew Jade cared about her father.

But he was her father. Hers.

And Jonny had shot him.

Jessie exhaled and downed the rest of her water. She crushed the bottle a little too forcefully, drawing Phil's attention. She groaned inwardly when he heard him tell the person on the other end of the line that he'd call back. She wasn't ready to talk, not even to Phil, but she knew he'd want her to.

Corbin was about to sit down on the bench next to her when the surgery doors at the far end of the hallway opened. Jessie was on her feet immediately. She felt Phil's hand on her shoulder at the exact same moment, holding her back.

The Doctor approached. His features were neutral which caused another wave of emotions in Jessie. She couldn't help but notice his scrubs were soaked in blood. Just like Phil's clothing.

"My dad?" Jessie pleaded when the Doctor stopped in front of them.

Jade was at her side too, but Jessie didn't care at the moment. All she wanted was an update.

The man looked down at her, probably wondering why a teenager was brought in on a MEDEVAC flight from a battle in the city. If he was concerned, however, he didn't say anything about it.

Instead he let out a heavy breath to report, "Your father made it out of surgery."

Jessie felt her legs wobble as relief washed over her. She leaned against Phil for support.

The Doctor continued, "That man is an amazing fighter. I've never seen anything like it. I'm not a spiritual man, but Mister Bannon refused to give in. The worst damage was the round that penetrated his torso and traveled up his body, nicking his lung."

Jessie saw him look towards Phil. "The flight medic said you opened his lung with some quick thinking and expert skill. It kept him alive long enough to get here. It saved his life."

Jessie heard Corbin mumble something, but couldn't make out the words, if he'd even spoken any words.

The Doctor kept talking. "He lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stabilize him and get his BP back to normal levels fairly quickly. We also removed the bullet from his leg."

"How long?" Corbin asked.

"Excuse me?" the Doctor blinked, not understanding the question.

"How long until he's back on his feet?"

With a frown, the Doctor replied, "I'm keeping him in our ICU overnight to ensure he's stable. At that time, based on his status, we'll move him to recovery. If he continues to remain stable, he can leave in a few days. I wouldn't recommend you putting him back in the field anytime soon, however I know men like Mister Bannon and yourself, Director Corbin, are not willing to sit around in hospital beds either."

Jessie spoke next, "Can we see him?"

"He's sedated. He's being moved at the moment, but once that's done I can let you go in and look at him for a few minutes. All I ask is that you stay quiet and not intrude into the other patients' spaces."

"Thank you." Jessie breathed softly, containing her tears, even though they were tears of joy.

The Doctor nodded. A nurse came over and stated that Race was settled. With a nod, the Doctor said, "Follow me. Director Corbin, there's a nurse's station just to the right of where I'm taking you. I ask that you leave your weapons there and not bring them into the ICU."

"Of course, Doctor." Phil replied.

Jessie followed the Doctor and waited as patiently as she could manage while Phil checked his weapons at the nurse's station. They were moving again a few moments later. The temperature of the small ICU was cold; Jessie wondered why hospitals were always cold. They made their way quietly to the end of the row. Jessie's eyes wandered, noting that some of the curtains were drawn. She found herself wondering about the conditions of the patients that lie beyond those partitions, wondering what had happened to them too.

They stopped when they reached the end. The Doctor turned back to the group and in a low voice said, "Remember he's sedated. He probably won't even know you're here. He looks ragged, but that's expected after an intense surgery like the one he went through. But now that he's alive and barring any complications, he'll recovery, probably rather quickly. Like I said, he's a fighter and not once did he give in. Not once."

Jessie gave the man a little smile. The Doctor smiled back at her and said, "I'll wait at the nurse's station and come get you in a few minutes." He departed, disappearing behind another curtain to check on one of his other patients.

Jessie brushed the curtain that masked her father aside. Stepping into the concealed area, she choked and fought back another wave of tears. She knew Corbin was right beside her, as was Jade. She heard faint whimpers from the other woman.

"Daddy." Jessie whispered.

Race was asleep in his bed. His eyelids were dark and an oxygen mask was covering his nose and mouth. A blanket was pulled half way up his torso. He was wearing a plain green hospital shirt and Jessie saw a number of wires sticking out of the neck; leads connected to the machines that monitored his vital signs. He had IVs in both arms and a device attached to his right index finger. His neck was bandaged and Jessie saw just the faintest bit of a blood stain there. She imagined his other wounds were stitched and bandaged too, but they were hidden beneath the blanket and his shirt.

Slowly, she stepped forward. Jessie slid her hand under her father's left hand then placed her other on top, sealing his hand between hers. He felt warm. That was a good sign.

"Daddy." She whispered again, watching his chest slowly rise and fall. Even with all the wires and bandages, Race looked peaceful while he slept. She wondered if he was dreaming and if he was, what he was dreaming about.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." She stated. "I'm sorry for all of this. This never would have happened if we hadn't gone on that stupid vacation last summer."

"Jess." Phil placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He was telling her not to blame herself, but she couldn't help it. It was true.

Jessie ignored Corbin, keeping her eyes on her father. "This is all my fault, daddy. I'm so sorry. And I'll do anything to make it up to you. Anything. I'll never argue with you again. I'll never defy you ever again."

A sharp inhale stopped the words from continuing; she'd felt him squeeze her hand. It was barely more than a twitch, but it was there. Her eyes shot up to look at his and she saw his eyelids fluttering, but they did not open. With a sigh, Jessie stop speaking and just let the tears flow.

She cried until the Doctor returned. She heard him tell Phil they had to step out for a while, let Race recover. Phil's hand was still on her shoulder and he placed his other hand on her other shoulder. With one final squeeze of her father's hand, Jessie set it gently back onto the blanket then stepped back. She allowed Corbin to guide her out, but she stole one more look back at her father before they stepped out of the enclosure.

Jessie followed her godfather and Jade back to the nurse's station. Phil was in the process of retrieving his weapons when a man approached. He was younger than Phil, but around the same height and build. He wore his hair in a short military cut, but had a five o'clock shadow on his face. He was dressed in a dark polo shirt, tan cargo pants and combat boots. Jessie also saw the man wearing a holster and handgun on his belt and had a metal breakaway chain around his neck. She figured it was one of those chains that held ID tags or a badge of some kind like police officers wore.

She saw that Phil recognized him. The two shook hands. Phil spoke, "Mike, sorry to have to meet again like this."

"Likewise, Phil. But I hear Bannon's going to be okay."

Phil nodded and looked at Jessie. "This is his daughter Jessie."

The man turned to her. He offered his hand, "Mike Williams. Sorry about your father."

"Thanks, but like you said, he'll be okay. It still hurts though."

The man nodded. "I've made arrangements for you while you stay here. I imagine you want to get cleaned up."

Jessie nodded, as did Phil and Jade. Mike led them out of the ICU and eventually out of the medical facility. Outside, Jessie was immediately hot again as the late day sun started to set. They traversed a basketball court and passed a few parked military vehicles and bulked up civilian SUVs. They entered another building, a makeshift barracks facility.

"This building is fairly empty and I've got you all rooms at the far end on the first floor." The CIA agent was explaining as he walked. "They're not much, but they each have their own latrines with showers, beds and linen, a small desk, and wi-fi. Our quartermaster had some extra clothing and uniforms so I've laid out some for each of you in your rooms. If they don't fit, let me know and I'll get you something else."

"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate this. We all do." Phil said. "I've already updated my team in Landstuhl and in D.C. and I still have people in the field here."

"I know. My ops officer is already in contact with your men on the ground."

They arrived at the rooms. "I'll come back in an hour or so with some food."

"Alright." Phil replied.

Mike nodded then left. The trio watched them go. Finally, Jessie asked, "Who is he?"

"A former Special Forces man turned CIA agent. We worked together in the Balkans a long time ago." Phil answered. "Let's get cleaned up and we can work on the next move. Jonny's still out there."

Jessie realized that she hadn't even thought about Jonny since she'd boarded the helicopter and the mention of his name flooded her with even more emotions.

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Jonny must have fallen asleep after Van Brandt had stopped to switch vehicles.

When he felt the vehicle slowing, he rubbed his eyes. "Where are we?"

"Berberan." Van Brandt answered immediately.

That didn't really tell Jonny anything. Glancing out the window, he saw they were making their way through some hellish traffic; traffic that consisted of cars, cargo vans, animal drawn carts, and throngs of people. He could smell the pollution through the vents. It made him gag.

"What is this place?" He asked.

"A port city in northern Somalia. We'll see if we can obtain passage on a vessel here to take us back to The Consortium."

Jonny didn't reply. His stomach growled. Van Brandt chuckled.

"We'll get something to eat too."

Jonny nodded. "Thanks."

A vehicle stopped in front of them, causing Van Brandt to brake quickly and press hard against the horn. Jonny smirked.

"Can I ask you something, Jonny?" Van Brandt inquired once they were moving again.

Jonny shrugged.

"Why did you shoot Bannon?"

"He killed Temple." Jonny replied coldly. "He deserved it."

"Is that the only reason?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jonny sneered.

"Bannon was your bodyguard for a very long time, Jonny. I'm just wondering how you gunned him down so easily. There had to be more to it than just witnessing him kill Greg."

Jonny huffed. In a low voice he said, "He killed my mother too."

"Really?" Van Brandt mused.

Something in the Brit's voice made Jonny look towards him, but the other man kept his eyes on the road.

"Yeah, really." Jonny remarked coldly.

Van Brandt nodded once. He didn't say anymore.

Jonny turned back to look out the window, attempting to recall an image of his mother to his mind. He struggled to do so.

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Eyes downcast, Jade slowly made her way towards the door of Phil's room. Never in all her life did she think that the choices she made would come to this, but now, after all she'd seen she knew she had to come clean. Her actions, even indirectly, had hurt not only innocent people, but those that she loved and trusted. Race Bannon came close to dying because of her and the thought of losing him was more than she could tolerate; she had to make amends.

She knocked lightly on the partially open door. No response, but she knew Corbin was in the room. Williams hadn't yet come for them and no sounds of running water, indicating Phil might still be in the shower, could be heard. She pushed the door open and stepped across the threshold.

Inside, she found Phil was alone. Jade figured Jessie was still in her own room and she was thankful the volatile redhead was not around; she needed to speak to Phil privately.

Corbin had showered and changed into the clothes Williams had left, just as Jade had. Jade frowned, Phil looked defeated. Due to the heat, he was dressed lightly in a dark green tank top, camouflage fatigues and belt, and black combat boots, his sidearm affixed to his leg; his rifle propped against the bed frame, barrel against the floor.

He was stretched out on the bed, head propped up against the headboard and pillow. One hand tucked behind his head, the other was holding a photograph. From her angle, Jade could see that it was a picture of the Phil's family; the sight pulled at her heartstrings.

"Phil," She said as she entered. "I need to talk to you."

"Not now, Jade." He grumbled without looking at her.

"No. It has to be now."

She heard him let out an annoyed grunt, making her dread the conversation even more; he was not going to be happy with her.

"I'm really not in the mood to talk right now." He stated dryly.

"I need to tell you something."

The timidness in her voice must have alerted him that something was amiss. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed while putting the picture in his pocket.

Phil stared at her. "What?"

Sighing, Jade started. "Remember the mission in Prague where Vostok tried to unleash that weapon?"

"How can I forget it?" Phil sneered.

"Do you remember that Race claimed I took something from Doctor Arman's safe and you sent him after me?"

Phil's eyes narrowed, "Get to the point, Jade." The intensity of his stare caused Jade to take a step back.

"By the time Race found me in Bangkok I had already met with my employer." Inhaling, Jade attempted to keep her composure, "You see, I did take something from Arman...and I sold it. It was a formula."

Phil narrowed his eyes, but said nothing, so she continued.

"I had no idea, Phil, honestly. No one had even heard of The Consortium back then."

Phil stood and stared her down; his rising anger making his muscles taught. "You bitch." He growled.

"Phil, I had no idea!"

"You sold the formula...for money?! You knew what it was capable of and you fucking sold it?" He balled his hands into fists as he glared at her.

"I didn't know." Her voice cracked.

"All these years, we trusted you, Race trusted you!" His voice deep; accusatory. "It wasn't enough for you to just screw him in the bedroom, no, you had to go and screw him in real life too! What the fuck, Jade? You sold him out!"

"I didn't sell him out." She countered.

"Tell that to his daughter!" Phil yelled. "Tell that to him! Oh but you can't because he's currently doped up in a hospital bed in this fucking shithole because of what The Consortium did to him."

"It was Jonny."

Phil shook his head, "Don't you dare put this on that kid! He's been brainwashed and manipulated by The Consortium and Temple. But you, Jade, you knew all along who these people were and you did business with them. Why?"

Jade covered her face and cried.

"Is money that goddamn important to you? Jade, I was always cautious around you, but deep down I trusted that you were on our side."

"I am, Phil."

"Bullshit! Open your eyes, Jade. You saw what happened out there. They used Arman's formula to murder innocent people. The Consortium is starting a fucking war and you supplied it with the weapon to do it!"

Jade continued to cry as Phil growled, pacing the room. Jade watched him through her watery eyes. He eventually pulled out the desk chair so she could sit. She did. Tears still flowing, Phil stopped and shot her a look of pure contempt. "I should arrest you right now."

"It's what I deserve."

"Who's behind The Consortium?" Phil asked.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit! I don't believe you. Who is it?" Phil grilled.

"I don't know, I swear! It's not just one person."

"You caused this?" The question came from Jessie. She was standing in the doorway, her face a mixture of disbelief and fury.

Both Phil and Jade turned to look at the wronged redhead as she stepped into the room. "Jessie..." Phil started.

"Answer his question." Jessie spoke, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Jessie, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I love Race,"

"Stop." Jessie set her mouth in a thin line. Shaking her head, she held up a hand. "Don't you dare say his name. I heard everything you just confessed. You don't have the right say my father's name anymore."

"Who is The Consortium, Jade?" Phil pressed as he loomed over her. "Is it Zin?"

Jade's headed bobbed, "Yes and no. Like I said, it's not just one person."

"Zin." Jessie growled. "I thought he was dead."

"Zin's resourceful. We also thought Kreed, Rage, and Temple were dead. At this point I'm not making any more assumptions." Phil answered, then turned back to Jade. "Who else? Vostok?"

"I don't think Vostok is involved. Zin and his daughters for sure, but the rest, I don't know. I knew about Kreed and Temple and a man named Grimm as well."

"Grimm is Ezekiel Rage. We already know about him. Anyone else?" Phil shot back.

"That woman from Surd's gang." Jade answered, no longer holding anything back.

"Julia?" The name rolled off Jessie's tongue in a way that showed Jade the redhead had just as much hate and contempt for Julia as she did for her. The realization truly bothered Jade.

"Yes."

"Where are they?" Phil sneered.

"I don't know." Jade hiccupped.

Phil began to shake his head, his lips curling into a snarl.

"I don't, Phil, I swear." Jade pleaded. "If I knew I'd tell you. I'm not part of The Consortium and like I said before, I didn't know they were the ones I sold the formula to all those years ago."

Phil didn't respond. Jade watched him reached for his rifle, but she placed her hands on his forearm. Standing, she looked at him with pleading eyes, "Phil, I'm so sorry, for everything. I've given you so much grief over the years and now this. Let me redeem myself."

Pulling away from her, Phil picked up his rifle, holding it by the hand guards, keeping the barrel pointed downward. He looked at Jessie then back at Jade. "Race is my friend, he's like a brother to me. I trust him with my life. Unconditionally. Like I said, I should arrest you right now, but your involvement from here on out is not for me to decide." He turned and looked at Jessie.

Sneering at the dark haired woman, Jessie's eyes were dead set and cold. "You want to redeem yourself, Jade? Fine. But I swear, if you make one false move or I even think you're turning against us, I'll put a bullet in your head so fast you won't even have time to blink. You get me?"

Jade nodded; she knew that Jessie Bannon was speaking the God's honest truth.

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Not wanting to leave Temple's body unguarded, Jonny stood at the back of the SUV as he watched Van Brandt negotiate with the harbor master. The conversation appeared heated, but when the Brit withdrew a wad of cash, the other man's tone appeared to change rather quickly. A few more words were exchanged, along with some addition bills, before the men finally agreed. Jonny observed the supervisor shove the money into his pocket then wave to some of his workers.

Van Brandt made his way back to where Jonny stood.

"Success?"

The Brit nodded. "Yes. Bastard wanted more money, but we came to an agreement. We've got passage for ourselves. The vessel sets sail tomorrow evening. They're also going to take care of Temple. There's a refrigeration container here and I paid him enough cash to ensure only Temple's body will be inside it. What do you plan to do with him once we get back?"

"I don't know," Jonny answered honestly. "But it didn't feel right leaving him behind. Maybe Anaya wants to bury him. Or cremate him."

"You know about those two?" Van Brandt raised an eyebrow in Jonny's direction.

"I do." Jonny laughed a little. "I actually walked in on them one night while they were…well…in the middle of something."

"And Temple let you live?" Van Brandt laughed. "Ballsy, kid. Bloody ballsy."

"And I know that Anaya is pregnant." Jonny confessed. "Greg didn't tell me, but I overheard when he told you."

"When we get back to the castle, Anaya will be heartbroken." Van Brandt's brow furrowed as he spoke. "If we can get her safely away from her father, I can arrange for her to go somewhere safe and comfortable. It's the least I can do for Temple."

"So how did you and Temple meet?" Jonny asked.

He watched the Brit as the man's eyes wander to the blanket covered body of his friend through the rear window. Jonny knew there was something more between the two men, that they had been friends more so than acquaintances. He didn't know how he could tell, he just could.

"Greg helped me flee Great Britain a number of years ago. The authorities were after me, claiming that some of my experiments were illegal and violated a number of human rights laws and regulations. I'd have ended up in The Hague or worse. I'd first met Temple when I was still with the SAS and he was with I-1. We crossed paths in Syria and ended up becoming friends. Combat will do that to men. So when I was in a pinch years later, I reached out to him for help. He came to my rescue, no questions asked."

"Really?"

"He saved me and brought me into The Consortium. Just like he did for you, Jonny. He saved you from a life of servitude, rape and misery. Temple protected you and I could tell that he looked at you as the son he never had."

"So when we get back? What's the plan?" Jonny changed the subject. Van Brandt's revelations making him uncomfortable.

"We tell Zin what happened. I'm sure that diabolical lunatic won't give a damn about Greg and will want to move forward with the plans. But, at this point, I don't know, kid. I want to get Anaya to safety first and foremost. If Zin causes problems, well, I'll just have to act for Greg on his behalf."

"You'll kill Zin and the rest of the board?"

Van Brandt nodded. Jonny saw a coldness in the man's eyes. "If that is what has to be done. Yes."

"And what about me?"

"At that point, Jonny, you're on your own. You're safe with me. Another thing I owe Greg. But I can't guarantee the rest of the board will have the same feelings as I do."

"Especially Julia." Jonny groaned.

"That bitch will be the first to die." Van Brandt declared.

"Agreed."

The dock workers arrived just then with a cart.

"Come on, Jonny. Let's get Temple taken care of. I have a contact meeting us later here at the port with some fresh clothing, weapons, and food. We'll stay on the ship until it departs tomorrow evening."

"Sounds good to me." Jonny stated.

Helping to gently unload Temple's body, taking care not to expose the wound that killed him, Jonny found himself warming up to Van Brandt. His first impression of the arrogant Brit seemed to have been misplaced; the man was displaying nothing but concern and remorse for his deceased friend. And he wanted to help Anaya and that was something Jonny could get on board with too. Add to that Van Brandt's determination to go up against Zin and the other board members and Jonny found himself willing to stand at Van Brandt's side and see things through to the end.

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The CIA's Operation Center was nowhere near as sophisticated as the GOC back at I-1 Headquarters, however Jessie knew this was an austere setting and the agents that occupied the space were working under harsh conditions.

What she didn't know was what exactly these men and women were working on. She had a feeling she didn't want to know.

Jessie stood along the wall, next to the rifle rack where Phil had just set his M4.

Jessie could feel the heat bleeding off of him as he came over to stand next to her and she knew that it wasn't just caused by the physical discomforts of the stuffy room, made even hotter by the multi-tiered setting and workstation arrangements of the operations center.

The CIA agent, Mike Williams, had asked his team to give them some privacy and only two agents remained to monitor phones and a live feed update of the Horn of Africa. The rest of the workstations were turned off or covered. Jessie assumed that it was only because of Corbin that she and Jade were allowed to set foot inside the top secret operations center to begin with. In Jessie's mind Jade shouldn't have been there at all. Part of her preferred the woman be locked up and Jessie knew that all she had to do was say as much to Phil and he'd make it happen. But Jade appeared truly anguished by what she had done, and her desire to make amends had felt genuine. So, for now at least, Jessie was fine with the woman still being involved.

When everything was ready, Phil used one of the CIA's secure laptops to remotely connect to the I-1 database. Williams set up the conference calls. Within minutes, Jessie saw the faces of Agent Blake and Agent Milner back in D.C. and the team in Landstuhl, minus Estella, Alena, and Hadji. She noted that Doctor Quest was visibly distraught, obviously torn at the news of Jonny's actions. She could also see that Agent Roberts was better and only had one bandage encircling his forehead now. Agent Dugger connected telephonically and he reported that Velk was with him.

"Okay," Phil started when everyone was ready, "we all know what happened in Mogadishu. The good news, of course, is that Race is going to be okay. Also, Temple is dead. However, Jonny is still out there with the ex-SAS operative David Van Brandt. Blake, you start."

The woman nodded, "Our satellites are tracking the movements of Van Brandt and Jonny. They switched vehicles half way through their trip before arriving in the port city of Berberan."

"Dugger, can you confirm eyes on?" Phil asked next.

Jessie was still amazed at the professionalism of the assembled team and especially Phil's calm demeanor. He was still dressed like a soldier and exuded authority with every word.

"Roger, Sir." Dugger's voice answered through the speakers. "We met up with the CIA team here in Berberan. Currently we have the port under twenty four hour surveillance. Last report shows Van Brandt speaking with the harbor master and paying the man off. They took Temple's body onboard the Norwegian flagged vessel, Stovarsk Caledonia."

"Damnit." Corbin grumbled, scratching the side of his face.

"What's the problem?" Jessie asked, ensuring she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Some of Norway's civilian vessels refuse to recognize some maritime laws and especially in regards to boarding procedures by American naval forces." Phil explained. "Norway may be our ally, however they can be uncooperative at times."

"So how do you plan to rescue Jonny?" Benton asked. Jessie noted the dryness of his voice and the tired look in his eyes. Her heart ached for him.

Phil drummed his fingers on the wood corner of the first level of the operation center's tiered set-up. Jessie could tell he was running scenarios over his mind. Finally, he looked back at the screen, "If they board the vessel, we need to continue to tail them. I don't want to extract Jonny just yet."

"Why?" Benton asked, not hiding the flare up of shock in his voice. Jessie wanted to know the same thing.

"For multiple reasons, Doctor." Phil explained, his voice remaining neutral. "First, Van Brandt is the biggest unknown factor right now. We have no idea how he sees Jonny. If Van Brandt feels cornered he could very well…kill…Jonny in order to escape. Also, I'm guessing they are heading back to the safety of The Consortium. We know that in addition to Kreed, Temple, and Rage, that Zin and his daughters are part of the organization too. So is Surd's lackey Julia."

"How do we know this?" Benton questioned.

Jessie saw Phil's gaze turn towards Jade. The woman was standing off screen, remaining quiet, per Corbin's strict instructions. Williams was next to her, standing guard without making it look like he was standing guard.

He shifted his eyes back to the screen. "Latest intel." Jessie knew it was all he was willing to reveal at the moment.

"So you want to use my son as a pawn to lead you to The Consortium?" Benton accused.

"Doctor, that's not it. From what we've learned, the attack in Mogadishu was just the first of many. They mutated Doctor Arman's formula and created a new biological weapon."

Even though Jessie didn't know who this Doctor Arman was, she could tell by Doctor Quest's reaction that he did. His tone changed, "And you think Jonny had a part to play in that attack?"

"I do," Phil said, but added with a bit more gentleness, "However, I don't think he was a willing participant. We know about the drugs The Consortium is using and from what we saw on the ground, Jonny is under the influence of those drugs. I do not hold him responsible for these atrocities, Doctor. He's a victim here."

Jessie saw Benton's eyes soften at Phil's words. The bearded scientist nodded appreciatively.

Phil continued, "I do, however, hold The Consortium responsible. And we have to stop the next attack. The best way to find their base of operations is to let Van Brandt and Jonny lead us straight to it."

"That makes sense." Benton remarked.

Jessie heard Phil's sigh of relief. "Here's how we are going to proceed. "Agent Dugger?"

"Yes, Sir?" The Cajun responded immediately.

"You two continue your visual surveillance. Neither Van Brandt nor Jonny knows either of you, but still do your best to remain out of sight. You're covert operators. Act like it. If they board that vessel, you do as well. Pay your way on board if you have to and I'll transfer funds back to the CIA. If you can't pay for passage, then find a way on board. No matter what, you two are to get on that ship with those two. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." Dugger replied.

"Maintain observation. Only intervene if you feel Jonny's life is in imminent danger. You have my authority to make that on the spot call if you have to, Dug."

Again the Cajun simply responded, "Yes, Sir."

Nothing in the man's voice indicated that he had any doubts about his or Velk's ability to get onto that ship or to rescue Jonny if they had to.

"Blake, keep the satellites over Berberan and that ship. If it sails, I want to know exactly where it's headed at all times. I resent authorization codes for de-conflicting flight paths with the CIA and NSA just before we started."

"Yes, Sir." Blake nodded. "We received and authenticated your codes."

"Germany, you guys sit tight. Terry and Karla, start digging up everything we have on David Van Brandt. It would be secondary, however, if he does manage to shake Dugger and Velk then I want to know if we can trace him through other means. Find every single one of his bank accounts, flag and monitor them. Get the NSA to ping every damn cell phone on that ship, minus Dugger's and Velk's, then sort through those numbers and find Van Brandt's. If he makes a call back to The Consortium I want to be able to backwards track it and pinpoint the location of the distant end."

"You can do that?" Jessie asked.

For the first time since they entered the cramped and hot room, Phil smirked. "Of course we can."

"Got it, Sir." Roberts nodded.

"Doctor Quest," Phil's voice softened again. "I just ask that you remain patient with us. We promised you that we'd bring your son home and that's exactly what we are going to do."

"I know, Phil." Benton managed to smile a little as he spoke, "and I know you will. All of you."

"When Race is able to be transported, we will make our way back to Landstuhl. It'll probably be another few days. I suspect that Van Brandt and Jonny, if they board that ship, will be underway for some time. That gives Race time to recover while we gather our information and prepare to strike."

"As for myself," Phil added after a pause. "I'll work with the CIA and DoD to coordinate for an infiltration and strike against The Consortium's hideout once its location is confirmed. You all should have received contact information for this location. Coordinate any contact through those means or through our secure phones. Are there any questions?"

When no one spoke, Jessie listened to Phil wrap up the meeting. "Alright, let's get to work."

Jessie wiped beats of sweat from her brow as the calls all dropped off the screen.

Phil didn't bother with any other words. He grabbed his rifle, nodded to Williams who nodded back, then looked at Jessie. She knew he'd once again taken on the role of her protector, but he wasn't happy about having to babysit Jade.

"Let's go check on your dad, Jess." Phil suggested.

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Dugger hung up the phone. He jerked his head at Velk, indicating for the younger agent to take a seat.

They'd followed the satellite real time tracking of Van Brandt's vehicle all the way to the port of Berberan. Another depressingly poor city, but with port that provided some economic stability, it was the perfect location for The Consortium members to hole up in order to try and slip away.

Having met up with CIA agents, the two I-1 men had been taken to a safe house so they could clean up, change clothes, switch out weapons, and eat. Currently, Dugger sat on the couch; Velk in an armchair off to the Cajun's left. The CIA agents had taken up observation duties so the two men could relax and check in; it seemed that word about Race had traveled fast and Dugger and Velk quickly learned that Race Bannon and Phil Corbin had friends in the strangest of places.

"What did the boss say?" Velk asked. Dugger hadn't put the call on speaker for safety reasons. They might be in a safe house, but the Cajun still wanted to remain cautious. "How's Race?"

"He's alive." Dugger exhaled, his relief at his old friend's condition evident. "Phil says the Doctor reported that Race was lucky. Except for some small damage to a lung, none of his vital organs were hit. He should be good to go in a week. And if I know, Bannon, that really means he'll be busting out of that hospital bed in three days tops."

Velk nodded. "What about us?"

"We keep tailing them. No contact."

"Why don't we just grab the Quest boy and hightail it back to Germany?" Velk suggested.

"Too risky. He's with Van Brandt now. And that British fuck may not be as slick as Temple, but he's just as sadistic. Jonny's also not endeared to the man and Phil's concerned that if Van Brandt feels cornered, he could kill Jonny in order to escape."

"So we keep tailing them, but for how long?" Velk asked, rubbing his chin.

"Until told otherwise. That's the other thing. Corbin thinks Van Brandt could be taking Jonny back to The Consortium's lair. He can lead us straight to the rest, which according to the boss, are some of the worst criminals we've gone up against." Looking at the younger agent, Dugger grinned ear to ear. "It's gonna be a hell of a fight and I'm not missin' it."

"Me neither!" Velk nodded in support.

"Let me get my hands on that traitor Argus Grimm. Us Cajuns are like elephants, we don't forget. Throw what he did to Terry on top of everything else and that son of a bitch is going to regret double crossing I-1."

Dugger knew that Velk was too young to know what he was talking about, but he figured maybe he'd share the tale with the young man over a beer once they got back to D.C. Velk had definitely earned it.

Until then, the least Dugger could do for his subordinate was let him rest first. "Why don't you go get your shower and change? But don't shave. Grab a few Zs. I'll take the first few hours of watch."

"What about the CIA?"

Dugger waved to his phone. "If any shit goes down or it looks like Van Brandt and Jonny are departing the city, they'll contact us right away. But I don't see that happening. Those two are as flustered and exhausted as we are. Van Brandt will take this opportunity to get some rest and devise his strategy."

Standing, Velk stretched his arms over his head. He yawned. Pete assumed his partner had been stifling that yawn ever since they'd arrived at the apartment. "Alright, Dug. Just wake me up in a few hours so we can switch."

Dugger nodded. He watched Velk disappear into the bedroom, heading to the bathroom. Hearing the water running, Pete got to work. Pulling a large green container out from beneath the coffee table, he popped the tabs and flipped the lid back.

With a smirk, he examined the contents. "This is what I'm talking about." He mused while at the same time picking up one of the plethora of handguns from inside the box. Next he grabbed some magazines, boxes of ammunition and got to work loading the mags.

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Race's condition hadn't changed. The Doctor ensured Jessie that it was a good sign, that he was regaining his strength while he slept, but Jessie was still worried. She couldn't not be.

They'd departed the ICU after only a few minutes. Jade had gone back to her room while Phil went to check in with Williams.

Jessie had made her way back to her room too. Alone once again, she was forced to wait. And waiting was the hardest part. It gave her time to think. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to remember watching Jonny gun down her father. Didn't want to remember the look on the love of her life's face when he stared her down then started shooting at her so he could escape.

Jessie willed herself not to cry. She didn't want to cry for Jonny. Not right now. Her tears were reserved only for her father.

After a few minutes, she heard footsteps in the hall. A moment later, the door across the hall opened and closed. She knew Phil was back.

Standing, she left her room and went to Phil's. Talking to him would be the only way she could get herself to stop thinking about that horrible event.

She knocked on the door. She heard him say something, so she took it as a sign to open the door and step inside.

Corbin was seated on his bed. Elbows propped on his knees, he held his head in his hands, staring at the floor. He didn't look up right away.

"You should get some rest, Jess." Phil spoke. "There's not much we can do right now."

She assumed he was able to differentiate between her footfalls and Jade's, hence how he knew it was her without looking up. Jessie stepped all the way inside and shut the door. She took a seat in the desk chair.

"I can't sleep right now." Jessie answered honestly. "My mind is still going a million miles an hour."

"Understandable." Phil sighed. He finally raised his head and stretched his arms over his head, arching his back. Jessie heard his shoulders pop, his face twisting a little from the pain.

"I know you probably want to rest too, but I wanted to speak to you in private for a moment. Before we go any further." Jessie rolled the chair closer to him so she could lower her voice.

He waited.

Jessie pushed a puff of air through her lips and spoke. "You saw what I saw, Phil. We all saw it."

"Jessie, you need to focus on the fact that your father is alive. He's going to recover."

"I know that and that's thanks to you, Phil." Jessie remarked. Her statement caused him to fluster; Jessie knew the man didn't like compliments, even if he deserved them. "But I'm talking about Jonny."

"I know you are." Phil replied even and low.

"This entire time we've been searching for him to bring him home and we were so close. But then…what he did. Phil, that's not the Jonny I know. That's not the Jonny I fell in love with."

"He's still there, Jessie."

"You don't know that. You can't know that." She shot back harshly.

"Jessie,"

"I want to believe what you're saying, Phil," Jessie cut in before the man could speak. "I really do, but after what he did. He tried to kill my father in cold blood. You saw it. You saw it!"

"Don't do this to yourself, Jessie. Don't go down this road." Phil told her.

"What?"

"I know where you're going with this. Do not give up hope, Jessie. Your father wouldn't want you to. If not for your sake, then for Jonny's. Believe that the man you love is still in there somewhere. Believe that you can bring that man back."

"I want to." Jessie lowered her eyes.

"Then do so." He suggested kindly.

Jessie pressed her eyes shut, fighting the mixed emotions that battled inside her. Finally, she set her jaw and looked up into her godfather's eyes. He flinched.

"Jonny Quest tried to kill my father." Jessie stated. She stood. "Jonny cared more for that bastard Temple than he did for my dad."

"Temple brainwashed him. Jonny doesn't know what he's doing." Phil offered. Jessie could tell it was hard for Phil to believe his own words.

"When we find him, I'll look into his eyes. That will tell me."

"Tell you what?" Phil asked, but his tone told Jessie that he already knew what she would say.

"It'll tell me if he can be saved. And if he can't, then he'll pay for what he did to my dad. I'll kill Jonny Quest myself."

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 **To Be Continued…**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

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Even as his stomach churned, Jonny kept his face neutral. Deep in the bowels of the ship, Jonny munched on some stale crackers while sitting on an old worn out army cot and watching Van Brandt argue on his phone with Doctor Zin. Jonny was actually surprised that Van Brandt was able to get reception for the call, however he assumed the man was using some type of attenuator to boost his signal. The ship had yet to get underway, but the container with Temple's body was loaded and now all they had to do was wait for the ship to set sail.

Listening to Van Brandt recount the battle, Temple's death, and their subsequent escape caused Jonny to relive each aspect again. Did Temple know that he wouldn't make it out alive? Is that why he insisted they split up? Was it to ensure Jonny escaped? Jonny doubted Temple felt he was at the end of the line, the man had just been too damn confident, but for some reason Jonny just couldn't be sure.

Shaking his head, Jonny pushed the questions away. It was over. There was no point in dwelling on it. Temple was gone, but Jonny was still here. He'd killed Race Bannon, but Jonny knew that Bannon had not been the only target of Temple's rage. Doctor Quest was responsible for Temple's sickness. Doctor Quest was the man that was next on Temple's list.

Doctor Quest was Jonny's father.

"I'll see what we can do." Van Brandt was saying into the phone.

The man's words pulled Jonny from his thoughts. From the wavering loyalties that were starting to invade his mind. Thankful for the temporary reprieve, Jonny looked across the dirty room, which was not much larger than a broom closet, at the Brit.

"What's going on?" He asked once Van Brandt had stowed his phone.

"As you can imagine, Zin is not happy. Yet, even with I-1 closing in, he still plans to go through with the next attack."

"What about Temple?" Jonny asked. The container that held Temple's body was easily accessible topside, but Van Brandt had warned Jonny about going up there and checking on it. They didn't want to make themselves more noticeable than necessary.

Secured with two locks, the container was only able to be opened by both Van Brandt and Jonny since Van Brandt had given Jonny the keys to one of the locks. That way neither man could enter the container without the other one present.

"Honestly, Zin didn't seem overly concerned about Temple's death." Van Brandt sighed.

A sneer formed on Jonny's face. "Temple died for The Consortium and Zin doesn't even care? That's fucked up."

Van Brandt shrugged, "That how Zin operates. He only cares about himself. Sometimes I wonder if he even cares about Melana and Anaya."

"I just don't get these people." Jonny frowned. Lying back on his cot, he interlaced his fingers and slid his hands behind the back of his head. Starting at the rust stained ceiling, he suddenly felt overcome by the need to sleep.

Van Brandt didn't answer. Stealing a quick glance in the Brit's direction, he saw the Englishman had also lain down on his own cot. His eyes were closed and he'd pulled the rough, wool blanket that had been folded neatly at the end of the cot up and over himself.

Sitting up, Jonny got his own blanket and did the same. He'd catch some sleep then explore the ship. It was going to be a long journey, so there was no rush to do anything more than relax and recharge at the present moment.

Once covered, Jonny fell back down and closed his eyes. He was asleep almost immediately.

 _"This time I'm going to show you just what I can really do with these hips." Jonny grinned._

 _Lips pressed lightly against Jessie's mouth, Jonny rocked his hips against hers._

 _"Punish me for being naughty." Jessie breathed._

 _With a wide smirk, he sat back and grabbed Jessie's wrists. Roughly, he pressed her arms over her head, pinning them to the mattress with a firm grip. Her eyes rolled back in her head while she moaned._

 _Jonny soaked it in, enjoying their little game of domination. He felt her legs part beneath him. He didn't wait any longer. Tightening his grip on her wrists, he watched her squirming beneath him when he pushed inside her._

 _"Oh Jonny," She cried, her back arching when he pushed himself as deep as he could go._

 _"Don't talk, you naughty girl." Jonny shot back. "Just take it."_

 _Jessie moaned again and Jonny increased his thrusts, his hips gyrating at an increased pace the more she groaned and rocking beneath him._

 _He was so into the act, into Jessie's pleasurable cries, that he didn't hear the door open._

 _"What the fuck?" Race shouted._

 _Jonny turned, "Holy shit!"_

 _Race was on him in three strides. "Get the fuck off my daughter!"_

 _"Race, wait, this isn't what you think?" Jonny twisted out of his bodyguard's grasp, bounding off the bed and Jessie. He rolled to his knees, searching for any article of clothing to cover himself with._

 _"No? I didn't just walk in on you fucking my daughter?" Race bellowed._

 _Jonny had rarely seen Race so enraged. The bodyguard generally kept his cool, even in the most intense and dangerous situations. But this...this was different. Very different._

 _"Race, I..." Jonny started. He turned his gaze to Jessie._

 _The redhead and scooted up, covers drawn over her naked form, covering herself in front of her father. Her eyes were filled with fear, but also...opportunity._

 _"Jess, no..." Jonny whispered. She had to tell her dad that this was mutual, consensual. If not, Race would kill him._

 _Her eyes left his. Jonny was doomed._

 _"I didn't want to, daddy." Jessie stated. To Jonny she sounded like a child._

 _Jonny knew it was all Race needed to hear. Jonny scrambled, pulling his boxers on as he did. He tried to maneuver around the big man, but Race, for all his size, was extremely quick footed and fast. He had Jonny by the arm within seconds._

 _"Is that how this is, boy?" Race growled, pulling Jonny's face to his. They were so close, Jonny could feel the heat bleeding off of Race's flushed face. "You want to get laid so you have your way with my daughter? Did she tell you no and you did it anyways?"_

 _"Race, no." Jonny cowered. The man's grip was like a vice._

 _"You get off raping my daughter?" Race sneered. "I'll fucking kill you."_

 _"I didn't, Race, I swear." His eyes wide, he tried to peer past the man that held him towards Jessie. She was leaning over the bed, gathering up her clothes. "Jessie, tell him. Tell him the truth."_

 _Jessie didn't say anything. She simply got dressed, climbed out of Jonny's bed, then hurried out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her._

 _"Race, I swear to you, I didn't hurt her. We were just..."_

 _"Shut your fucking trap, you little brat. I don't want to hear it." When Race let go, he pushed Jonny so hard, a shooting pain flared in Jonny's tailbone when he made contact with the carpeted floor._

 _"Race, please." Jonny felt his eyes starting to fill with tears. He wasn't sad. He was scared._

 _"That's right. Cry, you little shit." Race pointed a finger at him._

 _"My dad," Jonny started. "This is his house."_

 _"Go and run to your dad, you fucking coward. Tell him I caught his son raping my daughter and see what he says. Don't forget, Hotshot, I can do whatever the fuck I want here. What's he going to do? Report me to I-1? Stand up to me?" Race laughed. There was no humor in it, only malice. "Your dad doesn't have the balls to do either."_

 _"What the hell, Race?" Jonny had never seen this side of his bodyguard. Jonny could understand Race's anger with him, even if Jessie was lying, but to speak so cruelly about Jonny's dad. Why?_

 _"Stay away from my daughter, Jonny. If I catch you so much as even glancing in her direction, I'll make you fucking regret it. Get me?"_

 _With a gulp, Jonny nodded._

 _"Now get dressed. Get outside and wash the vehicles. Do something useful around here for once instead of prancing around like the spoiled little rich kid living it up on daddy's dime you really are."_

 _The door opened and then slammed shut. Five minutes later, Jonny finally pulled himself off of the floor. He hurried to dress and make it down to the garage. The last thing he wanted now was to upset Race even further._

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The deep rays of the rising sun filtered through the faded drapery of Jessie's room, somehow finding a way to shine directly on her face. Groaning, the teen stirred and sat up. She barely remembered getting in bed, let alone falling asleep the night before. She must have been more exhausted than she realized and had slept soundly throughout the night and into the morning.

Getting out of bed, she found that someone had snuck some more clothes into her room, to include some standard looking physical fitness gear that CIA agents must wear when on the base. Tossing them on, she also found a pair of female running shoes as she dressed. They weren't her favorite brand, but they were her size so she slipped them on, tied her hair back and headed out the door.

She knocked on Phil's door and when there was no answer, she dared to peek inside. The room was empty. She glanced towards the bathroom, saw the door was open and the lights off. He wasn't there.

Figuring he must be up and working already, Jessie resigned herself to running alone this morning; in a way it was fine, she could use the time to clear her head. If Phil needed her, he'd find her.

She didn't bother to check for Jade.

Stepping outside, Jessie felt the heat already beginning to rise. Even in the winter months, Somalia's temperatures remained high. She'd just have to suck it up and deal with it.

Heading out, she started at a light jog, following the road as it swung around the back of the building. She saw a few people here and there, but they paid her no mind. Jessie assumed that by now everyone on the base knew about her and her companions.

As the road continued and the buildings began to spread further and further apart, Jessie picked up her pace, working up a nice little sweat in the heat. It felt good.

In the distance she saw what looked like an obstacle course. She headed for it. As she got closer, she could see someone was out there, alone. She kept running and when she came upon the course, she saw it was Phil.

' _So there you are.'_ She smirked as she slowed to a walk upon reaching the course.

Stepping off the road, she made her way over to where Phil was working out. The course was a mixture of obstacles; climbing walls, ropes, areas where you'd have to crawl under razor sharp wire, rope bridges, and more that she couldn't see. The ground cover was a mixture of small woodchips and sand.

She moved to the section of the course where Phil was. Coming up next to a wooden bench, she saw a small towel, a t-shirt and some bottles of water.

Currently Corbin was climbing a thick rope. She found the man's resilience and physical state quite astounding. He was the Director after all, no longer a field agent, but he'd kept himself in top physical shape. Which Jessie assumed was a good thing, he might not have survived his stab wound if he had been out of shape.

Phil had opted for a different style of dress than Jessie. He was wearing his fatigue pants, gloves and boots, but no shirt. Jessie could see he was wearing his leg holster around his thigh and he also had his rifle strapped to his back.

He reached the top of the rope quickly, using mostly his legs to propel himself upward. Jessie knew it was the right technique, but it was one of those skills she'd never really gotten good at herself. She tried to study how he did it.

When he reached the top, he wrapped his arms around the cross log and pushed/pulled himself onto it. Jessie imagined it was taking a great deal of mental concentration on top of physical ability. One wrong move and he'd fall. Once on top of the log, he grasped the rope on the other side that he'd have to shimmy down at a 45 degree angle. Jessie watched him go head first. He moved quickly and when he was close enough to the ground, he kicked his ankles off the rope, swinging his feet to the ground.

It was then that Jessie figured he saw her because he trotted over to where she waited. Jessie noted he was a good ways out of breath, his chest heaving a little more than normal as he removed his rifle and set it down on the bench. He was sweating, his light amount of chest and lower stomach hairs matted against his skin. His face and arms was also glistening with perspiration and a light coating of sawdust.

"I didn't realize I was going to have an audience this morning." Phil smiled, taking a long slug from his water bottle.

"Well, you better be more aware." Jessie teased. "You'll have all the women on this camp out here watching you if you keep strutting around like this." She waved a hand at him.

She hadn't planned on making him blush, but he did. She watched him grab his towel to wipe the sweat and grime from his body, then pull his shirt on over his head. "Well, lucky for me there aren't that many here." He tilted his head and smiled, "Or maybe that's unlucky. I don't know."

"Ha!" Jessie squeaked. "Not to mention here you are climbing ropes and running obstacles when not that long ago you were laid up with a stab wound."

Phil lifted his shirt to show her the site of his wound. "I had the doctor check it out last night after you and I talked. He removed my stitches. Said it was healed."

"Still, you wouldn't want word getting back to Alena or your wife." Jessie joked.

"Am I being blackmailed by my own goddaughter right now?" Phil asked with a look of shock.

Jessie laughed at him. It felt good to laugh. Even with all that was looming over them at the moment, she needed to remember how to laugh. She needed to remember that not everything was doom and gloom and she had to remain positive. For her dad. For herself. And for Jonny.

For Jonny.

Jessie brow furrowed.

Phil must have noticed her change in mood. "What's wrong?"

"Jonny just popped in my head." Jessie mumbled. She took a seat on the bench, away from where Phil had set his rifle. She lowered her head, suddenly overcome by grief.

She watched Phil sit down on the woodchips directly in front of her. He propped his legs up and crossed his arms over his knees. It forced him to look up at her slightly and Jessie imagined he did that on purpose.

"Jessie, I know what you said last night. And while part of me understands where that anger was coming from, you have to realize that what Jonny did…he did it because he was under the influence of drugs. He was being brainwashed and manipulated by Temple."

"I know," Jessie replied, her voice low. She met his eyes. Phil's eyes were a deep shade of blue; deeper than Jonny's crystal blue eyes, but it made her think about her blue eyed angel even more. "I know, but it's just so hard to separate it all in my head. I try to think rationally, but then emotions take over. That's why I came out for a run, to try to clear my head."

"Did it help?" Phil asked.

"Well, a little, but then I saw you out here and it reminded me of why we are even here and Jonny just kind of faded. I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

"What were you thinking about in regards to Jonny?" Phil questioned.

Jessie's shoulders rose then sagged as she spoke, "I was trying to remember all the good times, but that image of him shooting my dad just kept resurfacing. No matter how hard I tried to push it away, it wouldn't leave. It just lingered."

"Maybe you need to do something else that will keep your mind clear of all of that." Phil suggested.

"Like what?"

He smiled at her as he turned slightly and eyed the rope climb for a second before turning back. "When you're up there or on the climbing tower or any obstacle here for that matter, all you think about is what you are doing. You have to because if you get distracted, it could be fatal."

Jessie shook her head, "Oh no. I was never good at climbing a rope."

"You're not wearing boots, so we can skip the rope climb…this time." Phil grinned. "Come on, I'll race you."

"Are you kidding me?" Jessie asked with disbelief.

"What?" Phil pushed his feet up, stood, and then pointed at his chest with his thumb. "I'll even handicap myself by carrying my rifle. You don't think you can beat this old man?"

"Oh I can beat you alright." Jessie shot back with a grin.

"Then prove it." Phil smirked, stripping off his shirt and tossing it on to the bench.

"Shirtless again, huh?" Jessie shook her head.

Phil picked up his rifle and raised his arms a bit, making a show of tightening his muscles. "Well, just in case some ladies decide to stroll on by."

"Men. I swear." Jessie rolled her eyes.

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 _Setting his bag down, Race pulled out his chair and took a seat. The mess hall was fairly crowded, but it was a large enough space that one could carry on a conversation without having to shout or be distracted by other noises and conversations._

 _Temple took a seat across from him. Greg Temple was a well respected veteran of I-1 and while he was only a few years older than Race, the man had seen more during his time with the agency than most. He'd also taken the time to teach Race everything he knew._

 _Government Agents were somewhat different than Race's Navy SEAL brothers. These guys, while tough as nails and dedicated to the organization, were quite competitive when it came to assignments and promotions. Greg had warned him about some of the guys, but he'd said most were trustworthy and would have Bannon's back, regardless of personal feelings._

 _"Sometimes I can't help thinking these guys are sizing me up." Race stated while reaching into his bag for his burger. Unfolding the wrapper, he dumped his fries into it then set the empty bag aside._

 _"I told you before, don't worry about these guys." Temple said through a bite of his own burger. "They're good men, but remember this place is overflowing with testosterone and I swear every day there's a dick measuring contest going on somewhere."_

 _"We really need more women around here." Race joked._

 _"No shit, Racer." Temple's eyes shifted to the side then rolled back in his head. "Speaking of dick measuring..."_

 _Race saw the agents approaching their table. The bigger of the two took a seat without being invited. His eyes went between Race and Temple, a grin plastered to his face the entire time. It wasn't a pleasant grin. Race knew of the guy. His name was Peter Dugger. The other agent was definitely the more timid of the two men. Of average build, he sported thick auburn hair and wore black rimmed glasses. Argus Grimm. A name that did not match his look._

 _"Heard you two just got back from the island." Dugger stated._

 _Dugger was a Cajun and his accent was thick and heavy. Race eyed the man. Temple spoke first._

 _"Yeah. What of it?"_

 _"Heard ol' Roger here beat the speed record at the course." Dugger replied._

 _"Again, what of it?" Temple asked, a little hotly._

 _"Oh nothin'. We just wanted to come over and see the man that beat your record, Greg. That's all." Dugger laughed. "How's it feel getting shown up by this rookie punk?"_

 _"Who you calling a punk?" Race growled. His eyes narrowing as he studied the big man._

 _"You, tough guy." Dugger snorted. "You got a problem with that, rook?"_

 _"Maybe I do." Race made a show of pushing back in his chair._

 _"Easy, Racer." Temple cautioned._

 _"Racer?" Dugger laughed. "That's what we call you now? Come on, Racer. But I like just Race. What do you think Grimm?"_

 _Race looked back at Dugger's companion. The man shrugged. He seemed bored. "Race Bannon does have a ring to it."_

 _"Race Bannon, rookie punk." Dugger laughed._

 _"What's your problem, asshole?" Race demanded._

 _"Asshole?" Dugger was on his feet at that._

 _Race responded. Jumping up, his chair fell back and banged against the floor, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Race stared Dugger down. The man was six inches taller than Race and had at least fifty more pounds of solid muscle over Bannon too. But Race couldn't back down now. Not with everyone watching. His eyes drifted slightly towards Temple._

 _Greg, just like Grimm, had moved back. They were allowing their counterparts to settle their differences without interfering. Like men._

 _"Let's see what the rookie's got." Dugger laughed deeply then sprang at Race._

 _To Race's surprise, Dugger was surprisingly nimble on his feet. He moved with an almost relaxed grace. But his attacks were powerful._

 _Race took Dugger's first hit straight in the jaw. He let the big man hit him, so he could judge the strength of his opponent. And it was a strength that told Race he'd never survive a standup fist fight with Dugger. In fact, he was lucky the man's first hit hadn't already knocked him out or broken his jaw._

 _Race staggered from the blow. Dropping his hands, he shook away the stars that circled his vision. Dugger didn't seem to care that his opponent was dazed. He moved back in for a second attack. Race's hands shot back up to protect himself, but Dugger was just too quick and too strong. The Cajun cocked his arm down and back and landed a solid blow to Race's gut, lifting the white haired man off his feet and pushing the air from his lungs._

 _It was then that Race heard shouting all around. The entire break room was watching and cheering._

 _'Is this high school all over again?' Race thought._

 _Another blow. This one connecting on the side of Race's skull. His legs wobbled and he dropped to his knees. Dugger was over him again. Reaching forward, Race wrapped Dugger's legs up in his arms, but the man was too strong, Race had zero chance of tearing the Cajun's legs out from beneath him._

 _His head was swimming from the last blow. Race barely registered Pete's thick arms wrapping around his torso. But the next thing he knew, he was hoisted off the ground. With a display of amazing strength, Dugger twisted Race in his grasp, lifted him higher, then slammed him down on top the table. The fake wood creaked, splintered, cracked and collapsed under the force of the blow._

 _Race groaned. He tried to stand back up._

 _"Stay down, Bannon." Dugger ordered._

 _Race ignored him. He ignored the shouts of the other men. He was on his knees a moment later. He spit blood. Dugger was watching. Race saw something in the man's eyes that wasn't there when he'd first approached the table. Respect._

 _Wearily, Race was back on his feet. He felt blood running down his forehead. His entire body ached. He raised his fists._

 _Dugger raised his._

 _"Knock this shit off." Someone yelled._

 _Race ignored it._

 _The others didn't._

 _Dugger stepped back, but didn't lower his hands._

 _Race stepped forward._

 _He never got a chance to attack. Another man pushed through the crowd of onlookers. His eyes went between Dugger, Race, and the carnage around them._

 _"What the hell is going on here?"_

 _"Relax, Corbin." Dugger snorted. He lowered his hands. "Bannon and I were just getting acquainted."_

 _Just like Dugger, Race knew of the other man. Philip Corbin. Well respected and if the rumors were true, in line for the Director position._

 _"Well, stop. This isn't high school." Corbin said. "And now you've gone and broken another table. Damnit, Dug."_

 _Race watched Dugger smirk. A moment later, Race felt Temple grab his arm to steady him._

 _"It's over." Temple said._

 _"Get out of here." Corbin was saying, but it was directed at Dugger."Stephens is going to have your ass for this. And as your team leader, mine too."_

 _The big Cajun huffed, but Race saw his shoulders relax after a moment. Dugger looked at Phil, "Sorry, brother."_

 _To Race's surprise, Dugger turned to him next. The big man took a step forward and extended his hand. "You're a tough son of a bitch, Bannon. Not many can take hits like that and still be standing when it's all over."_

 _Race eyed the Cajun for a minute. 'Was this a test of some kind? Or was it just posturing like Temple had said?' Either way it didn't matter. Race may have got his ass kicked, but he imagined he'd earned quite a bit of cred and respect by doing so._

 _He shook Dugger's hand. "Thanks." He didn't know what else to say._

 _Dugger grinned. "I like you, Bannon. I think we're going to get along just fine around here."_

 _Race nodded once then let go of the man's hand. Dugger departed with Corbin and Grimm._

 _Temple was shaking his head. "Asshole broke the table and by extension ruined our lunches."_

 _"He also tried to break my face, Greg." Race laughed, finding it amusing that Temple seemed to care more about their smushed cheeseburgers than Race's busted face._

 _"Come on," Temple grinned. "Let's go get your cleaned up so we can go get something else to eat. And don't worry about Dugger. That's his way of testing you."_

 _"He tests people by kicking the shit out of them?"_

 _"Yeah. But Dugger is a man you want in your corner. Corbin too. Dugger's straight muscle, but Phil knows the politics of this place better than anyone else. You want to get some cool assignments, stick with me. You want to get promoted and move up to the real missions that I-1 conducts, stick with Corbin. And either way, stick with Dugger. In his mind you're one of us now and he'll have your back no matter what."_

 _"Interesting group of guys I-1 has assembled.' Race thought on his way out of the mess hall, receiving a few pats on the shoulder from some of his fellow agents along the way._

With a groan, Race cracked open his eyes.

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As evening approached, Dugger led the way towards the port. Black gym bag slung over his shoulder, he kept a slight scowl on his face as he strode past the dock workers; the local men giving him a wide berth.

Carrying a similar bag, Velk walked with him and Dugger imagined the sight of both men must have been unnerving for the workers, even though they had probably seen their fair share of unsavory characters coming and going through the port over the years.

Dugger's eyes flashed towards Velk for just a brief second. Pete had managed to secure passage for him and Matt on the Norwegian vessel that Van Brandt and Jonny were traveling aboard. Passing himself and his partner off as for-hire mercenaries, Dugger took the time to make sure they fit the look he was going for.

Besides growing their beards, Dugger had schooled Velk in ways that would make him look more rugged and battle-hardened than the kid currently appeared. Velk had a background as a U.S. Army Infantryman who had served in Iraq and he'd obviously proven his mettle countless times with I-1, but he'd yet to work real undercover.

And Dugger knew how to work undercover and it didn't matter how much combat experience a man had, you make one wrong move while interacting with the seedy population of the world's criminal underworld and you were dead. And Dugger didn't want to be dead.

So they'd spent the night prior, after the conference call, and the morning, preparing. The clothes the CIA provided were new and Dugger had to make them look old. As to not arouse suspicion by working outside, he opted for grabbing a bucket of coarse sand and dirt from a nearby alley and brought it inside the safe house. Dugger showed Velk how to rub the stuff all over his pants and not just the pair he'd wear first, but on all three pairs the CIA had given each man. When they were done, the pants were scuffed, scrapped and slightly dirty; as if they'd been worn many times before.

Their shirts weren't as difficult since people tended to purchases shirts more often than pants. But they made them look slightly worn and torn. The CIA had also given Dugger a leather jacket and Velk a black bomber jacket with orange lining on the inside. Dugger put a small rip in the back of Velk's jacket.

They also scuffed up their boots and the lenses of their sunglasses. Dugger had chosen a black nit beanie cap while Velk chose an old fitted ball cap that bore no emblems, it was just black, but the bill had been thoroughly bent and a ring of sweat was in the band. Neither Dugger or Velk knew who had worn the cap before, but in the end it didn't matter. Sweat dried fairly quickly. Blood on the other hand...

So now here they were, twenty four hours later and boarding the vessel that they had no idea where it was headed. To Dugger it didn't matter. All that did matter was his orders.

They had to act like they knew what they were doing, that this wasn't their first time paying off some crooked dock supervisor in order to get onto a ship. So they just went with the flow and followed a group of men up the ramp and onto the ship.

However, once they set foot on the vessel's deck they were approached. The newcomer, thin and white, sported a scruffy beard that covered his sunken jowls, thus making his eyes seem hollow and set too far back in his head.

He snorted, then spoke in fairly decent English, "You the hired guns?"

"Yeah, lookin' for work somewhere other than this shithole of a country." Dugger answered with a jerk of his head back over the side of the ship.

The man snorted again, but grinned. "I might have work for you. Either on board or when we make port."

"As long as it ain't swabbin' no decks or slingin' shit. You got others you can pay to do that work." Dugger grumbled with a laugh.

The man laughed, but Dugger picked up a slight hesitation; Dugger was intimidating the thug and that was alright with Pete. He had to exert his dominance now or else the other questionable crew and passengers would see him as weak and exploitable and that just wouldn't do.

Dugger waited for the man to say something. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket with one hand, he fished one out, snagging it with his teeth then offered the pack to Velk. Matt took one too and stuck it behind his ear. But then he pulled a disposable lighter from his pants pocket and lit Dugger's smoke for him.

He didn't offer one to the bearded man. It was Dugger's way of telling him that Pete felt the guy was lower than himself. It was a risky move, but sizing up the guy standing before him, Pete knew this guy was only a messenger.

And Pete hated smoking; it reminded him of his bastard of an old man. A man he'd worked a long time to erase from his life. Yet there was always some aspects you could never get rid of and for Pete it was the memory of his abusive father when he was drunk and stinking of tobacco and booze.

But he was putting on a show and in order to do that he sometimes had to do things that weren't to his liking. This was one of those times.

Finally the nervous man jerked his chin in Velk's direction, "Your partner speak?"

"When he wants to." Dugger shrugged.

The man appeared to accept that. Addressing Dugger he said, "Head down to cargo hold then make your way to engine room two. See Jacques. He will set you up with a place to sleep."

"And some food and liquor." Dugger stated, it wasn't a request.

"Food yes. Once we shove off we like to have a little fun the first night. Jacques will tell you details. Bring money. Plenty of booze and stuff. Whatever you like."

"Fine." Dugger grunted, not showing too much interest, but happy he'd made enough of an impression as a hard but semi-trustworthy thug that they'd been invited in already. He still had to be cautious, it could always be a trap, but his instincts were telling him it wasn't.

Flicking his cigarette overboard after taking another puff, Pete didn't bother to look where it landed. He didn't say anything else to the guy, he simply turned and headed towards the door that would lead into the underbelly of the ship. Velk followed right behind.

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Jonny awoke. He didn't remember his dreams. That didn't bother him. As of late his dreams were the cause of all of his confusion and headaches. So not remembering was just fine by Jonny. Unsure of how long he'd been asleep, he carefully swung his legs over the side of the cot. Standing, he felt the hum of the ship's engine vibrating through the floor, tingling his legs.

The vessel was underway.

Looking at his confederate, Jonny saw that Van Brandt was still wrapped up in his blanket, asleep.

Jonny didn't know where Van Brandt kept the keys of the lock on Temple's container and it didn't feel right to go digging through the man's belongings, as sparse as they were at the moment.

 _'He's probably got it on his person anyways.'_

So instead of going topside to look in on Temple's corpse, Jonny decided to explore. He'd overheard some of the crew members earlier speaking about a party.

A sudden craving caused Jonny to itch with anticipation. A party amongst these type of men meant he'd definitely be able to make a score. He needed it.

Grabbing his handgun, Jonny secured it in the holster at the small of his back. Checking to make sure he had plenty of cash in a number of different currencies, he quietly opened the door, stepped out, then shut it just as quietly, not wanting to disturb his new partner as the Englishman slept.

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Jacques and his bearded confederate hadn't been lying when they said some of the crew liked to party once they got underway.

Stepping through the door that led to the cargo hold, Dugger had to duck and twist his shoulders to fit through the portal, reminding him why he never joined the Navy. Velk only had a slightly easier time when he followed behind Pete.

The party had already started. There was a low hum of background music, but most of the sounds that filled the corner of the hold came from the men that milled about. About a dozen or so men, mostly all white, but a couple darker skinned males, occupied a corner of the cargo hold. A few tables were set up, with one holding a wide variety of liquor bottles some with labels that Dugger couldn't read. Another table had plates of food, but no one was eating from them at the moment. Three large coolers were filled with ice and beer, again some of the brews marked in languages that Dugger only recognized as Eastern European looking.

 _'I bet if Corbin was here he could read some of these.'_ Dugger thought to himself as he pilfered through one of the coolers.

A few of the men eyeballed him and Velk, but none said anything. He and Matt were, by far, the biggest guys in the group and Pete assumed that while some of the men might have considered themselves to be badasses, their self-confidence had quickly waned, however, once they saw the two undercover agents.

But Dugger knew that such attitudes could still lead to trouble. When men felt threatened or felt they were less than the men around them, it could lead to some foolish bravado which could turn ugly real quick. Pete was thankful that there were no women present. Throw some women into the mix and any man that felt less than adequate in front of a woman when challenged by a more domineering male was just asking to end the night with a busted up face or even a bullet in the head.

Dugger also took note that some of the men were armed. He and Velk both were as well, but they knew how to conceal their weapons better than most. Not that they needed to, they were posing as mercenaries and everyone expected mercs to be armed.

Dugger handed a beer to Matt, who used his lighter to pop the top off. Dugger simply used his thumb, an old trick he learned in the swamps. Dugger still wore his beanie cap, but he'd left his leather jacket secured in their room. He'd locked the small space where they stored their bags and jackets with his own lock that would be next to impossible to break.

Velk had also left his jacket. He was wearing his hat backwards with his sunglasses, which were completely unnecessary, on the top of his head. He still had the cigarette tucked behind his ear.

Dugger smirked at his partner. He could tell Velk was enjoying the role he was playing, but the look he portrayed wasn't that far off from the real Matthew Velk. Young, single, and full of energy and spunk, Matt Velk was the epitome of the young American male. Having served in Iraq, he saw himself as a bit of a hardass, and in a way he was, but Dugger knew that the young man's self-confidence was born from the American male persona of strength and dominance. In a way, Velk reminded Dugger of himself when he was young. Always confident and sure of himself; always ready for a fight; always ready to have fun; always ready to impress the ladies. Fortunately for Pete, there were no ladies present to distract Velk from his duties.

Dugger grumbled a little laugh, causing Velk to look up at his partner. The younger man had been examining one of the trays of food, a odd colored piece of cheese secured in his left palm. "What?" He asked Dugger then popped the piece of cheese in his mouth.

"Brave man." Dugger laughed, nodding at the cheese the younger man just ate.

"Blah," Velk made a face and stuck out his tongue. "This is horrible." But he swallowed the fermented curd anyways.

"If is so bad why did you eat it?" Dugger raised an eyebrow while asking the question.

"I'm of German decent. My stomach can handle it." Velk laughed. "And if my grandmother caught me spitting out food she's tan my hide till next week."

"You're twenty six years old." Dugger reminded him.

"And? She'll still whoop my ass." Velk laughed.

Dug shook his head and took a long swig of his beer. He stepped towards the table that was the center of the party. The poker table was old. The green felt ripped in a number of places and faded or stained in others, but it still functioned as it should and currently four men sat around the table playing cards. Dugger eyed the pile of money in the center of the table, noting a number of different currencies.

He nodded at the lone empty chair. "Deal me in?"

A hard looking man with weathered skin and hard green eyes nodded at the chair. Dugger sat and gave the man a once over. He appeared to be an old sailor, having spent most of his life on the water. His hands were calloused and his nails chewed down. He sported a deep scar running up from the underside of his jaw towards his ear, but whether it was caused in some sort of brawl or was an accident caused by the sea, Dugger had no way of knowing.

"Money." The man jerked his head at the pile.

"I got money, pal." Dugger replied and pulled a wad of cash of out his front pocket. He did it on purpose, making a show that he was good for it. He looked back at Velk, who had found a metal folding chair and turned it around so he could sit backwards on it and watch from a little distance. Dugger knew that Velk wasn't really watching him, even though he acted like it, but was watching everyone else.

The man started dealing the cards once Pete had thrown in his money. Dugger took the time to light another cigarette, he really hated smoking, but almost every guy in the room was smoking too. "Five card draw. Aces high."

Dugger put on his best poker face and looked at his cards.

Five hands later and about a hundred dollars poorer, Dugger waved at Velk for another beer. He imagined the younger agent didn't like acting like a subordinate to Dug in front of these men, but at the moment, it didn't matter. Dugger had Velk's back and Velk had Dugger's.

Velk popped the top off of Dugger's third beer than slapped it in Pete's hand.

Dugger heard the door he and Velk had entered through a couple hours prior open, the loud metal clanging reverberating throughout the open hold. Without raising his head, he let his eyes wander towards the new arrival. He knew Velk was doing the same thing while speaking German with a man he'd managed to befriend.

It was Jonny Quest.

Leaning back, Dugger took a long pull from his beer then lit another smoke. He used it as a chance to steal a look at the kid again.

He'd only gotten a quick glimpse of the Quest teen back in Mogadishu before the kid had started shooting at them, but seeing him up close he looked nothing like the wiry young teen they had been searching for since the summertime.

His hair was thick and long, swept back on his head, the ends curling around midway between the base of his skull and the bottom of his neck. He had gained weight and Dugger noted most of that weight was muscle. Jonny was getting big. The tight long sleeve shirt he wore conformed to his muscles, showing off the beginnings of a solid build.

Most importantly, Dugger saw that Jonny was armed. He had a handgun tucked into a holster in the back of his pants. He wasn't even trying to hide it. Dugger found himself frowning, it was probably the same handgun Jonny had used to shoot Race.

Turning back to the card game, Dugger tossed some bills onto the pot then looked at his cards. Taking a drag off his cigarette he eyed the men around the table. None were paying the new arrival any mind, they were all concentrating on each other and the game.

Jonny was on the move. Dugger turned his head slightly and saw he was approaching one of the men at the table. Jonny didn't appear to care that he was interrupting a serious game when he tapped the green eyed man on the shoulder. "I heard you're holding." Jonny said.

Dugger ignored the kid and was thankful that it appeared Jonny was ignoring him. Velk too. It seemed Jonny didn't know who they were, he'd hadn't had enough time on the street in Mogadishu for his brain to process the faces of everyone running at him. For that Dugger was thankful.

"What are you looking for?" The man asked Jonny casually, as if the kid had just asked for a gallon of milk and not drugs.

"X or blow." Jonny replied.

 _'Damn. What did Temple do to that kid?'_ Dugger thought.

Dugger didn't speak his thoughts however. Instead he wrapped his knuckles on the table and said, "Hey, we're in the middle of a game here. Piss off, kid."

"Who you calling a kid?" Jonny challenged.

Everyone paused. Dugger sneered and turned to face Jonny. He hoped he was right about Jonny's mind not processing his face. "I'm calling you a kid, kid." Dugger scoffed. "You got a problem with that," He made a show of spitting on the ground then looking back at Jonny, "then go ahead and say you got a problem."

Dugger gave the kid credit, Jonny held his gaze longer than Pete expected, but eventually the teen looked away. Dugger snorted.

"Deal me out." The green eyed man stated.

"You fold?" Dugger asked.

"Yeah. I fold."

"Fine." It made him wonder. Was this guy a contact for The Consortium or just someone Jonny had been directed to in order to buy drugs. He'd keep his eye on the guy till he learned more.

The man pushed back from the table and moved a few steps away with Jonny. Dugger continued to watch. He knew how to look without being caught. It was a skill necessary to survive in this line of work.

Jonny pulled out some money from his pocket. The man withdrew a baggie full of pills. Another with joints inside. They made the exchange. Jonny purchased both bags.

Dugger wanted to stop it, but he couldn't. He couldn't blow his cover. Ecstasy and weed weren't going to kill the kid and as much it pained Dugger to see Jonny succumbing to a need for drugs, he had to let it go, at least for now.

Transaction complete, Jonny stepped away from the poker table. He paused and it appeared he was curious about the party and the men. He sighed then started to leave.

Dugger stood. He might not be able to stop Jonny from using the drugs he just bought, but he could at least delay him a bit. "Hey, kid."

Jonny paused. He turned back towards the table. Dugger heard Velk pause in his discussion with the German. Most of the men were silently watching the exchange, but some ignored it and continued on with what they were doing.

"Wanna get in on the game?"

"You already got five." Jonny replied, but he took a step back towards the table.

"Green eyes over there got dealt out."

"But,-"

"You got money or did you just spend it all on that shit?"

"I got money." Jonny stated.

Dugger looked around the table. "Anyone got a problem with the kid joining us?"

The other men were studying him, but none challenged Dugger. He was just too intimidating. "Take a seat." He said to Jonny after it was clear the other men weren't prepared to stand up to Dug.

When Jonny did, Dugger looked over his shoulder. "Hey, partner, get our new pal a drink."

Velk nodded and did as he Dugger ordered. Popping the top, he set the beer down in front of Jonny then went back to his discussion.

"Game's five card draw. Ante up. You try anything funny and I guarantee I can draw faster than you can reach behind your back. You pickin' up what I'm tellin' you?"

"Yeah," Jonny gulped a little. "I get you."

"Good." Dugger grinned. He lit another smoke, took the deck of cards and shuffled them.

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Jessie set her tray down at the end of the last long table in the mess hall. The CIA facility wasn't big, with only five double tables, similar to the ones in schools, on each side of the walkway that ran down the center of the building. Both having showered and dressed, she'd accompanied Corbin to the dining facility for breakfast. She was amazed at the amount of food selections the mess hall had provided and had eventually settled on some scrambled eggs, turkey sausage, and a bowl of fruit.

Phil plopped down across from her a moment later. His tray consisted of eggs, bacon, fruit and grits.

"Finally got your eggs and bacon, huh?" Jessie teased with a nod at his tray.

"Yep." Phil nodded then started dumping hot sauce all over his eggs.

"Grits?" Jessie asked. "I thought that was a southern thing. You said you were born in Alaska."

"It is, but it's also an Army thing." Phil explained as he stirred some butter into the bowl of the staple southern dish. "It's one of those things you learn to love after so many years. I rarely get to eat them though, not very popular in D.C. and my wife doesn't appreciate them. So I always eat grits when I go to military mess halls or places like this."

"Interesting." Jessie mused. "So," she started between mouthfuls of eggs. "I told you I'd beat you."

Phil didn't stop eating. "I was already pretty exhausted when you got there."

"Excuses, excuses." Jessie laughed. "This is twice...no three times I've bested you, Corbin."

"So you're keeping count?" Phil joked with a raised eyebrow. "Now I know how Jonny must feel when you bust his balls all the time."

Jessie let out a choked snort. "Hey, now."

Phil laughed, but kept eating. Jessie did the same. She was starving.

Just as they were finishing up, the rear doors of the mess hall opened and Mike Williams came in. Jade was with him. Jessie saw Phil's eyes go in that direction, so she turned and witnessed the pair walking towards them.

"Phil," Mike handed a paper to the Director. "Report from your men. They boarded last night and made contact with Jonny Quest. They have eyes on."

"Good." Phil nodded. "What else? This could have waited till we got to the ops center."

Williams nodded towards Jessie. The redhead felt her heart jump into her throat. "Her father is awake. I was just informed five minutes ago and came straight to find you."

Jessie was on her feet. "Let's go see him."

Phil nodded as he rose. "Of course."

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 **To Be Continued...**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

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Stubbing the end of the joint out on the bulkhead, Jonny closed his eyes. He'd woken up from one of his dreams, but the details had faded within minutes, replaced with a pounding headache, prompting Jonny to head out with a joint to alleviate the pressure in his head. A sense of calm took over his mind as the drugs relaxed his muscles and washed away the tension. All thoughts of his time in Mogadishu evaporated as the drugs took effect and for the moment, all his worries and pain were gone.

Pushing open the door to the small quarters he shared with David Van Brandt, Jonny stepped inside. Van Brandt had just woken up. The Englishman was splashing water over his face from the little sink in the corner. Naked from the waist up, Jonny saw an old, but ghastly looking scar along the man's back.

"Where have you been?" Van Brandt asked, not turning to look at Jonny.

"I was just outside." Jonny answered, taking a seat on his cot.

"Getting high?" The Brit inquired.

"It helps with the headaches." Jonny answered.

"If you say so." Van Brandt grumbled. Jonny assumed the Brit didn't approve of Jonny's extracurricular activities, but Jonny was thankful the man didn't try to lecture him in regards to it. Van Brandt wasn't Temple. Temple had possessed his own demons that had lured the man to drug use, Jonny was using to fight a different internal struggle within himself.

Temple. Race. Jessie. Dad. Hadji. They all consumed his thoughts and his dreams, his nightmares. All battling against one another, showing Jonny conflicting aspects of his life. He didn't know what to make of any of it anymore and if he couldn't get high, Jonny was afraid he'd lose his mind.

He felt a need to explain for some reason. "Hey, it helps me. My mind is so conflicted and when the headaches come each one is worse than the previous."

Van Brandt shrugged. "Once we return to the castle, I recommend you find some other means to combat your struggles, Jonny. There is work to do still and you will need a clear head. I cannot protect both you and Anaya at all times from the rest of the board. Do not give your adversaries an opportunity to strike because you were too high to see it coming."

Jonny nodded. The man's words made sense. He'd try.

Changing the subject, Jonny asked, "What happened to you?"

"Temple said you were an inquisitive one." Van Brandt chuckled. Grabbing a shirt from his cot, he finished getting dressed, covering his scar. "Let's just say that things happen that mold men. My scar is from my time in the SAS and it reminds me of why I ultimately left the service."

"Really?"

"Yes, Jonny, really." Van Brandt answered, his eyes hard.

Jonny knew the man wouldn't say more and in a way, that was fine. He didn't need to know the details of the man's past, only that he was loyal to The Consortium and therefore Jonny.

"Tell me about these men that you swindled at this poker game the other night." Van Brandt leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "The two mercenaries in particular."

Leaning back, Jonny rubbed his hands over his thighs. He was still high, but Van Brandt's questions were starting to bring him back down. It annoyed Jonny, but he knew Van Brandt must have his reasons.

"I'm pretty sure they're Americans." Jonny started, recalling the details of the two men to mind. "The bigger one had an accent, pretty thick. He's either a Cajun or a Creole, but my money is on Cajun. His associate didn't talk as much, at least not to me. He wasn't playing cards, just watching and drinking. For a while he was talking to one of the crew members in German. They were both armed."

"Did they pay particular attention to you? More so than you'd expect?"

"Not really. The big man was annoyed that I interrupted the game, but then he invited me in. Maybe he saw me as an easy payday. I don't know. But I took most of his money in the end, which I think pissed him off a little."

"What about their mannerisms?"

Jonny shrugged. "They were definitely on alert, but I think that was just because of the circumstances of the party. Hanging around other shady characters. They were definitely rough around the edges and had the looks of stone cold killers. Not the type of men I'd want to cross."

"Yet you took the Cajun's money." Van Brandt smiled.

"Hey, that was his fault. He's not that good at poker." Jonny grinned. "Why? What's so special about those two?"

Van Brandt paused. Jonny watched the man's face tightened as he pondered. After a moment, he answered. "We have a long journey ahead of us, Jonny. And when men become bored due to prolonged confinement they become dangerous. We could use a couple additional men to provide extra protection."

"You want to hire them?"

"I want to meet them first." Van Brandt corrected. "Then I can determine if they are worth hiring as bodyguards."

 _Bodyguards. Race was my bodyguard. At least he was before he betrayed my family. But now he's dead. Payment for his treasonous act._

"Come, Jonny. I am hungry and from the way you smell, I imagine you will be soon as well." Van Brandt laughed. "I would ask that you at least change your shirt before we head to the mess hall. Just the stench of your marijuana could get others high."

Jonny shook his head and laughed. Stripping off his shirt, Jonny pressed it to his nose. Van Brandt was right, he did reek like pot.

Tossing the tainted garment aside, Jonny grabbed another from his gym bag, pulled it on over his head, then headed out the door with Van Brandt. The low grumble emanating from Jonny's stomach confirmed the Englishman's claim; Jonny was hungry.

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"Undercover work is boring as shit." Velk grumbled.

"Get used to it, High Speed." Dugger laughed. "We're on this rust bucket till Jonny and that psycho Van Brandt get off. Besides, what did you expect?"

The room they shared was small, with two cots, one toilet, sink and mirror. If they wanted to shower they had to do it in the community locker room in a different part of the vessel. The room stank like rust, salt water, and mildew. They'd been given a box of MREs and cases of water, but both men had already found contacts that could get them just about anything they wanted during their voyage.

Velk gestured around their tiny living space. "Something better than sharing a broom closet with your big ass. No women, cheap booze, shitty food, man. Not to mention I thought this ship was big enough so you wouldn't feel it moving, but that's not the case. I feel like I'm going to vomit from the constant swaying. We've been on this ship for days now and it hasn't gotten any better."

"Wait till we get to open waters." Dugger answered. Standing in front of the tiny sink he was trimming his beard. Knocking the disposable razor against the sink, he went back to carefully running the blade over his neck. Dugger hated having a beard, but just like smoking, he had an image to maintain. Glancing at his partner, Dugger did notice that Velk looked a bit green.

"If you're going to hurl, don't do it in here." Dugger smirked.

Velk grumbled again.

"Seriously though, keep your wits about you, Matt. Yeah, this duty sucks, but we're doing it for a good reason, you know that."

"I know." Matt nodded.

"And it won't last forever. Remember that."

"I imagine this must be what prison is like." Velk huffed.

"In a way it is. But here we have each other, brother. And just like in prison, we have to watch each other's backs. This ship is full of seedy criminals that'll shank you for a few dollars or because you looked at them the wrong way. Luckily, we've already established ourselves as guys they don't want to mess with, but that doesn't mean they won't if they get desperate."

"I need a shower." Velk stated. With a grin, he looked at Dugger and said, "And so do you. You reek, man."

"Fuck off, Velk." Dugger made a show of sniffing himself. But he couldn't help his nose curling up as a result. He did stink.

Velk saw it and laughed. "Told you so."

"Watch it, youngin'." Dugger smiled. "This is what a real man smells like."

"Real men smell like sausage and feet?" Velk laughed again.

"You want me to watch your back in the showers or what?" Dugger shot back.

"I don't want you watching me at all in the shower! I want you watching the other guys to make sure they don't try anything funny."

"You're not as sweet looking as you think, Velk." Dugger teased.

"Look who's talking, Dug."

Both men laughed heartily. Eventually their grunts and laughter died down. Dugger set his razor down on the edge of the sink and said, "Alright, funny man. Let's go hit the showers then get something to eat at the mess hall. After that we can look for Jonny, make sure that kid is alright."

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"Temple is dead." Zin announced to the assembled members of the board. "Killed by Race Bannon."

Anaya worked to hide both her shock and her hurt. Ever since she'd awoken alone in Temple's bed days earlier, she'd been overcome by a horrible sense of dread; like she knew she'd never see him again. Her hand traveled to her stomach subconsciously.

"However," Zin continued, drawing Anaya's attention back to her father, "David Van Brandt and Jonny Quest escaped. And it appears Temple had trained the young Quest far better than I had imagined."

"What do you mean?" Julia asked with a sneer.

"According to Van Brandt, young Jonathan killed Bannon in retaliation for Temple's death." Zin explained with an evil grin. "And if the young Quest could so easily gun down a man that had spent years at the boy's side, I truly believe he can be used against his father if need be."

"That was Temple's plan." Anaya threw in. Her head hurt and she felt sick to her stomach. Her father couldn't see it, but things were unravelling all around them. And now that Temple was gone, it would only get worse. Not only for the board, but especially for Anaya. Greg couldn't protect her from her father anymore and as soon as she started to show, Zin would force her to kill the baby, regardless of who she told him the father was.

"Anaya is correct, father." Melana added, her eyes on her father. Anaya was thankful her sister no longer seemed concerned about Anaya's strange behavior. "Temple wanted to kill Benton Quest as revenge for his sickness. His death would serve no purpose to the ultimate goals of The Consortium."

 _That's not why I mentioned it, but okay._ Anaya thought.

"If there is one man that could truly stop us from accomplishing our goals it is the illustrious Doctor Benton Quest." Zin countered. "While I have a small amount of respect for the man and his abilities, he remains a nuisance and must be eliminated. We can fight Intelligence One. However, it is Doctor Quest that could stop us and therefore he must die."

"Speaking of Intelligence One," Julia grumbled, "have we heard anything in regards to their pursuits?"

"Bannon's death seems to have stopped them in their tracks." Zin reported. "They are scattered and confused. It is only a matter of time before Director Corbin's superiors yank his leash and force him to call off his search."

"What of Van Brandt?" Rage asked.

"He and Jonny are currently en route back to us. They are on a vessel passing through the Mediterranean Sea. It is not scheduled to make any port calls until it reaches Norway, however once they pass through the Straits of Gibraltar we may have a chance to collect them in open waters. If not, it will be at least two weeks before they arrive."

"That gives me time to prepare." Rage pushed himself up from the table, his mechanical hand leaving faint scratches on the polished oak.

Anaya watched her father's lips curl in disgust.

Anaya forced herself to keep a look of indifference on her face. _Temple is dead, yet father cares more about his precious table than Greg's sacrifice. I have to escape. I can't stay here any longer._ She told herself. Now she just had to figure out how to actually do it.

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Even through the pain, Race couldn't help but smile when Jessie brushed through the curtain and came over to his side.

"Dad!" She cried with joy, perhaps a bit too loud and Race's grimace caused her to lower her octaves, both for his benefit and the other patients. "How are you feeling?" She asked next, coming over to the side of his bed.

"I'm good, Ponchita." Race answered. He imagined he didn't look good and in fact he felt like he'd just finished going ten rounds in a boxing ring with Pete Dugger, but he tried not to show it, for Jessie's sake.

"You look good." Jessie remarked, yet her eyes were filled with worry as they traveled up and down his prone body, lingering for a few moments on the IVs in his arms. Race assumed her words were meant to be kind for his own benefit. "The doctor says you're doing great and should be able to move to a more comfortable space soon."

Race nodded a little. "How've you been holding up?"

Jessie pulled up the little stool that was next to the bed. Sitting down she shrugged. "As well as I can, I suppose."

"That's good to hear." Race's throat was parched and he motioned for the cup of water on the little stand. Jessie grabbed it and helped him take a sip from the bendable straw. The water was refreshing, but Race found himself hating the feeling of his own uselessness. He could barely take a drink of water without help from his teenage daughter. It just wouldn't do.

"Corbin and I raced each other out on the CIA's obstacle course this morning." Jessie told her father after she set the cup down and took his hand in hers. He could tell be the gleam in her eyes that she'd won.

Race looked towards the end of the bed. Corbin had accompanied Jessie, but so far had remained silent with his arms crossed over his chest, letting father and daughter talk while he stood watch at the foot of the bed. It hurt to nod his head, so Race just gave his friend a long blink. Phil nodded in return.

He indulged her anyways, "Don't tell me that old man beat you?"

"He didn't." Jessie boasted, causing Phil to grunt and roll his eyes.

Race smiled. Once again, he found himself thankful for Corbin's devotion to watching over Jessie, keeping her safe and grounded throughout the entire ordeal. Race knew he'd never be able to effectively do his job if Jessie wasn't being looked after. Yet, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the other man, who was just as much a victim as Race and the others. At least Race was able to see his daughter, and even Estella, but Phil had no idea where his wife and children were and couldn't even call or text them. Race reminded himself to do something nice for Corbin and his family once this was all over.

"I'm sure you left him in the dust." Race joked.

"Sure did." Jessie nodded with a grin.

"Have you talked to your mother yet?" Race asked, changing the subject. He figured Estella was probably worried sick at the moment.

"Corbin spoke to her. Doctor Quest and Hadji too. But I'm going to call later from a secure phone. They'll be relieved to hear that you're awake and recovering."

 _Typical Jess,_ Race mused. _More concerned with other people's feelings than her own._ It made his heart swell with pride.

"Hey, Ponchita. I need to talk to Phil in private for a few minutes. Is that okay with you?" Race asked.

Jessie frowned a bit and Race knew she wanted to stay with him and as much as he wanted her to stay, he didn't want to discuss certain details in front of her. She was part of the team, but he still needed to fulfill his fatherly duties and protect her from harm. And in this case, that harm was the discussion of Jonny Quest.

"It'll only be a few minutes." Race reassured her.

Still wearing her frown, Jessie nodded a little. Standing she reached out and gently hugged her father, her movements careful as to not cause him further injury. "Okay." She whispered against his neck. "I'll wait at the nurse's station. Love you, daddy."

"Love you too, Ponchita." Race responded, patting her a little on the back before she pulled away and stepped back.

Race watched his daughter brush past the partition. He saw Phil's eyes following the girl beyond where Race could see and when it appeared Jessie was safely out of hearing range, Phil turned his head back towards his friend.

"How are you really feeling?" Phil asked. He stepped into the small area and pulled up the little rolling stool where Jessie had just been sitting so he could sit next to his friend.

"Like shit." Race answered with a groan. His entire body ached. He was nauseous and his head was still pounding.

"What do you remember?" Phil asked next while handing Race the cup of water. His voice careful and reserved.

Race closed his eyes. With a sigh he took a sip and answered, "Everything."

"So you remember who shot you?"

"Jonny." Race answered quietly. "Jonny tried to kill me."

He heard Phil grumble an affirmation and it brought to Race's mind the next question. "Did you get him? Phil, please tell me you got him."

Phil shook his head, lowering his eyes. Race groaned, dropping his head back to the pillow. "What the fuck, man?"

Phil took the water from him. "Race, relax. Don't overexert yourself."

"I don't need to fucking relax." Race shot back, but it made his head flare and he pressed his mouth shut, fighting back the sudden wave of nausea.

"You do." Phil answered evenly. "Race, we tried. But he shot at us and we had to get down. Velk took a round in the plate and I barely got Jess out of the line of fire. She was going at a full on sprint towards you guys. Van Brandt appeared and they escaped. They took Temple's body with them."

"Fuck." Race groaned. It wasn't the news he needed to hear. He was angry, but he knew his anger shouldn't be directed at Phil, even if his best friend was willing to take the heat. They had tried and if nothing else, Race calmed a bit at hearing Phil had pulled Jessie out of the line of fire. "I'm sorry, man."

"Don't be sorry, Race." Phil replied. "I've got Dugger and Velk tailing Jonny and Van Brandt. They boarded a vessel and set sail. My orders to them were to watch and protect him, but only pull Jonny out if his life is in immediate danger."

"You think they'll lead us to The Consortium's base, don't you?" Race knew what Phil was thinking.

"Yes." Phil lowered his head, rubbing a hand along the back of his hair.

Race knew Phil's mannerisms better than most. He was holding something back. "What else aren't you telling me, Corbin?"

Phil sighed heavily and scooted the stool closer to Race's bed. In a low voice he answered. "Jade confessed to me that the biological weapon The Consortium used was a mutation of Doctor Arman's formula. The one she stole back in Prague all those years ago."

"Are you serious?" Race asked, he felt his anger rising again. "No. No way, man. She wouldn't do that. You don't believe her, do you?"

Phil's head bobbed up and down. "I do believe her, Race. And the only reason I haven't arrested her is because she wants to make amends. I have Mike Williams and his guys watching her every move while we're here. She's not getting away. No one escapes clandestine CIA facilities."

"This keeps getting better and fucking better." Race shook his head. "So Benton knows what's going on?"

"He does. In addition to working on the formula to counteract the drugs Jonny's being given, he and Hadji are in communication with the U.N. personnel that responded to the attack so they can begin working on an antidote. We think Mogadishu was just a test run, Race. We think The Consortium is planning more attacks. That's why Van Brandt is running back to their lair."

Race's hands were moving. He tried to rip the IV from his arm, but Phil was on his feet, clamping his hands down on Race's hand. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm not sitting in some hospital bed while The Consortium uses Jonny to commit genocide." Race growled.

"Race, stop." Phil ordered. Race didn't comply, which forced Phil to press so hard against Race's IV that it actually pushed the needle harder into his vein, causing Race considerable pain. But the needle remained in place. "Stop for one damn minute, Bannon."

"Let go of me." Race grimaced, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Use your head, Race." Phil stated. "Van Brandt and Jonny are on a ship. They're not getting back any time soon. Our guys are tailing them. The moment they do anything, we'll know. You were shot three times. You need to rest and recover. If you try to leave now you'll just end up making yourself worse and then you'll be laid up here even longer. Give it a few days. Let the doctor clear you then we'll go back to Landstuhl and plan the strike."

"Bullshit." Race grumbled, but he stopped resisting. "How long did you stay put after you were shot?"

"That was different. I didn't stop breathing. My lung didn't collapse and my heart didn't stop. All of that shit happened to you, man. So relax. Don't make me handcuff you to the fucking bed, Bannon."

To make his point, Phil reached around his back and produced a pair of cuffs from the pouch on the back of his belt. Race smirked, Phil always came prepared.

"Fine." Race groaned.

"Give me your word, Race. I have my hands full watching Jessie and Jade. I don't need you giving me any more anxiety attacks."

"You have my word." Race nodded. Then he smiled a little. "You don't have to handcuff me. I don't want to be part of your kinky little sex games."

"Fuck you, Bannon." Phil laughed.

"Anxiety attacks? That bad, huh?"

"Race, you're my best friend, but I swear you're going to be the death of me. And if not you, that dogged daughter of yours. Just be happy I had no qualms about giving you mouth to mouth, you overbearing grunt. I wasn't prepared to watch you die." Phil frowned at the last part, taking his hand off of Race and putting his cuffs away.

"Awww," Race laughed. "How sweet."

"You tell anyone and I will make you regret it, Bannon." Phil smirked.

Race looked at his arm and saw a considerable bruise forming around his IV site from where Phil had grabbed him. "Look what you did to my arm, asshole." Race moaned.

"Sorry," Phil shrugged. "But if you had ripped it out it would have been much worse."

"I know." Race closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling and exhaling till the pain subsided. "Thanks, Phil. For everything."

A nurse popped her head into the curtain, "Sir, Mister Bannon needs his rest and we need to check his bandages."

"Alright," Phil nodded to the woman. Turning back to Race, Phil leaned down and took Race's hand in his own. Squeezing it firmly, but not enough to cause Race any further pain he said in his most serious tone, "As soon as we know the location of The Consortium's hideout we'll hit it with everything we've got, brother."

Race gave his friend's hand a squeeze. Their eyes locked for a moment and each man nodded to the other in turn. Then Phil placed Race's hand back down and stepped aside so the nurse could enter. Race watched his friend depart.

Closing his eyes, Race suddenly felt weak again. Without opening his eyelids, he asked the nurse, "Can you give me a little extra something for the pain so I can sleep?"

"Yes, Sir. No problem." The young woman replied kindly.

"And you might need to change out my IV." Race waggled his arm a little.

"Will do."

By the time the nurse was done with her ministrations, Race's eyelids refused to open. Sleep came quickly as the morphine flowed through his system.

 _I know you shot me, Jonny. But it's okay, kiddo. I'm still going to save you and take you home._

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"That's them." Jonny jerked his chin in the direction of the two men seated by themselves at one of the mess hall tables. They'd been underway for days and while Jonny had seen the men every now and again in the passageways, they always ignored him, shooting him nothing more than sideways glances while in passing.

But now he was with Van Brandt and the Englishman was interested in the mercenaries.

"Rough looking to say the least." Van Brandt grumbled. "Just follow my lead and don't say anything. I want to make sure these two are legit before we go any further."

"Do we really need them?" Jonny asked.

"Extra muscle is always worth having. However, the problem with mercenaries is they have no loyalty. They're loyal is to whoever pays them."

"But The Consortium pays quite well."

"Yes." Van Brandt nodded. "Come."

Jonny followed Van Brandt, approaching the two men Jonny had met the first evening at the poker game. The bigger of the two had his meaty hands wrapped around a mug of coffee while the younger was hunched over, his head low. They were speaking to each other, but when Jonny and Van Brandt neared they stopped their discussion and looked up.

"What do you want?" The big man asked, giving Jonny a sour look. He figured the man was still bitter that Jonny had taken most of his money during the game.

Van Brandt didn't ask if he could sit, he just did. Jonny followed suit. The men eyed them cautiously and Jonny figured they were sizing his companion up. "My friend here says you two are for hire."

"Maybe." The large man answered. He straightened his back and faced the Englishman, his eyes were cold and hard; the eyes of a killer. Jonny noted the other man didn't look at them, but he still wore a scowl on his face. Jonny thought he might be hung over. Or else he was just an angry individual.

"I have a proposition for you gentlemen." Van Brandt started, "but before we discuss that I'd like to know your qualifications."

The young man finally reacted. Still scowling he reached beneath his jacket, pulled a pistol and set it on the table. His hand on top of the handgun, he turned the barrel towards Van Brandt. "Here's my qualification."

Van Brandt smiled. Jonny was impressed that the Brit wasn't rattled by the larger, younger man, but Jonny remembered that Van Brandt had been an SAS operative back in the day. Between that, his time with The Consortium and dealing with the rebel forces in Mogadishu there probably wasn't much that scared him.

"Any fool can carry a gun." Van Brandt remarked coolly. Lifting the end of his shirt, he showed the men that he was armed as well, but he didn't draw. He had no need to.

The big man grunted and waved at his partner. With a snort the younger man holstered his weapon.

"We just finished up a contract in the Congo." The larger man, who Jonny pegged at the poker game as a possible Cajun by his thick drawl and when he dropped a few French curse words while losing his money to Jonny. Jonny thought he could be a Creole, but his fair complexion and dialect swayed Jonny's opinion to a Cajun heritage more so than Creole. Jonny remembered hearing similar accents and dialects during his trips to New Orleans. "Now we're looking for another contract."

"What did you do in the Congo?"

"What do you think?" The Cajun answered. "You need me to spell it out for you?"

"I'd prefer you did."

"Simple. We killed whoever our employer paid us to kill." The younger mercenary answered with a sneer.

"Where else have you two worked?"

"I've done time in Afghanistan, Syria, and Crimea to name a few." Answered the Cajun.

"Afghanistan, Iraq, and South America. Even pulled a hit on a cop in Florida. Fed the bastard to the gators when I was done with him." The young one offered, the last statement spoken with a macabre grin.

Jonny tried not to choke. The man appeared to derive some sick pleasure from the memory of his brutal killing act. _Did they really need guys like these two?_

"Interesting." Van Brandt mused, stroking his chin.

"Look, pal," The big Cajun growled, "either tell us what you want or get lost. We ain't got time to play games with you."

"It appears you have all the time in the world, my friends." Van Brandt countered.

"We ain't your friends, Limey." Cop killer shot back.

"No," Van Brandt's smile disappeared, replaced with a thin purse of his lips. "You are not. But I like you, both of you. You appear to be men of questionable morals."

"Morals don't pay the bills." The Cajun merc grunted.

"Exactly." Van Brandt nodded. "Since there are no women on board this vessel for you to have your ways with, I imagine you two will find yourselves getting bored rather quickly. So you can either do some work for me or you can sulk around this ship getting drunk and playing cards until we reach the next port."

Jonny saw the men exchange hard looks. The younger man shrugged a little at his boss, who turned back to Van Brandt, "What's the job?"

"Protection." Van Brandt offered. "I want you two watching over myself and the boy as well as a particular container topside."

"What's in the container?" The cop killer asked.

"That don't matter," The Cajun shot to his companion. Looking back at Van Brandt he said, "What matters is your money. Cash. American. Ten grand each. Now." He tapped two of his large fingers on the table to make the point.

Jonny saw Van Brandt smirk and shake his head. "Five thousand a piece, ten total. Half now and half when we reach our final destination. Which you won't be told where that is until we get there."

"I don't give a shit about that." The bigger man spat. "Six grand for me. Five for my partner."

"Hey, asshole." The younger one barked, but was quieted by a harsh look from the bigger, older man.

The guy may be a sadistic killer that enjoyed feeding the animals, but to Jonny it was obvious who was in charge of this two man crew.

"Like I was saying," The leader started up again when his partner quieted down. "Six for me. Five for my associate. We'll each take half now and the other half, plus a two thousand dollar bonus each when we get you safely to where you're going. No tricks and no funny business. You try settin' us up, we kill you both and take whatever we want."

"Or just bleed you and feed you to the sharks." The young man produced a Spyderco knife, flicked the blade open and ran his thumb along the blade, grinning threateningly at Van Brandt the entire time.

 _Damn, this guy really likes making people suffer._ Jonny frowned, but was slightly relieved the man was focused more on Van Brandt than himself. He clearly didn't like Van Brandt or perhaps just British people in general. _Sick fucker._

"Chill out, you crazy bastard." The Cajun growled to his partner, but Jonny noted that this time the young man didn't pocket his weapon. He just held the blade firmly in his large, powerful hand.

The Cajun looked back at Van Brandt, "So we have a deal or are we just going to have to get drunk and play cards?"

"You drive a hard bargain, my oversized friend." Van Brandt laughed. If he was in any way moved by the cop killer's threat, he didn't show it. "But it's a deal. Shake on it like gentlemen?"

The Cajun's dark, cold eyes studied Van Brandt, but when the Englishman extended his hand, the big man took it. The younger man simply snorted again, but he did nod in agreement. Jonny could tell he was pissed about getting a grand less than his partner.

"Where's the money?" The leader asked, not letting go of Van Brandt's hand.

"Meet us up top. Aft in thirty minutes. I'll have your money and show you which container I want you watching."

The Cajun let go. "Fine. See you then."

"Come on, Jonny," Van Brandt stood. "Our business here is done for the time being."

Jonny stood and then followed behind his new companion. When they reached the exit, he stole a glance back over his shoulder at the two mercenaries and found them staring daggers in their direction.

 _Rough men for sure._ Jonny shook his head. _And I thought Temple was a badass._

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When Van Brandt and Jonny were gone, Dugger waited a few moments longer to ensure they didn't return. When he was sure he and Velk were alone, he glanced at the younger agent and grinned, "You are a crazy bastard. Really getting into the role, huh?"

Velk shrugged his shoulders and grinned a little. Pocketing his knife he replied, "It all just kind of flowed out of me."

"Cop killer. Good one. That'll guarantee Van Brandt doesn't fuck with you."

"Yeah, but I really wouldn't mind slipping my blade into his gut. That guy is the really killer, not us. And he's a coward. Killing innocent people with bombs and bioweapons." Velk spat as if just talking about it left a sour taste in his mouth. "I lost plenty of my infantry brothers to cowardly bombers in Iraq. They make me sick."

"I hear ya, brother." Dugger nodded. "But remember, stay focused. You'll get your chance at Van Brandt when the times comes, believe me. For now, let's go get ready to meet them up top. Van Brandt's need for muscle seemed genuine, but I don't trust him as far as I can throw him."

"I imagine you can throw him pretty far." Velk laughed as he stood. "But I get your point, big man."

"We just need to keep our eyes and ears open. This is an opportunity I wasn't expecting. If nothing else it keeps us closer to Jonny. After we make the deal, I'll send up my report."

"I never understood why they forced us to learn Morse code during training. Now I know." Velk was referring to their means for transmitting their reports.

"Learn it and love it." Dugger laughed. "Come on, let's get moving."

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Pulling up a seat next to Hadji, Benton peered at the young man's computer screen. "How's the data compilation coming along, son?"

Hadji sighed and stretched. "Slow. In addition to the information you originally catalogued in IRIS's mainframe on Doctor Arman and his plague weapon, I have instructed IRIS to search for any other known records on the subject or any similar results related to plague outbreaks over the last two decades."

Benton rubbed his chin, stroking his beard as he digested Hadji's report. "How many hits have returned so far?"

"More than I would have expected." Hadji replied evenly. While the young man sounded calm and collected, Benton knew otherwise. He knew his son. And because he knew his son, he was aware that Hadji had been pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion every day the past week since they'd arrived in Germany. Benton had found himself grateful for Alena's continued presence, helping in any way she could, which most of the time was ushering Hadji back to his room for a few hours of sleep each night. Colonel Martinek had also remained and was working with his office back in Prague on gathering as much information from the original confrontation with Doctor Arman and General Vostok as he could. From the grumblings and slew of angry Czech phrases that bled from the older man's lips from time to time while he was on the phone, Benton imagined that Czech bureaucracy was just as frustrating and American 'red tape'.

However, Colonel Martinek and Alena had been successful in securing the services of one the Czech military's most elite Special Forces team. The four man outfit was currently on its way to Landstuhl from their base in the Czech Republic and was scheduled to arrive later in the evening.

Hadji continued his explanation, "Part of the problem is that bubonic, septicemic, and pneumonic plagues are also naturally occurring and are still fairly common in many remote regions of the world, mostly in third world countries. Filtering out those cases from cases that could be caused by a biological attack will be time consuming."

"Perhaps I can help with that?" Estella offered. She'd pulled up a seat on the other side of Hadji. Cradling a coffee cup in her hands, Benton noticed that Race's ex-wife was still visibly distraught; worn down by not only her own foolish actions, but by the news of Race's incident with Jonny.

 _Jonny._ Benton closed his eyes, the heels of his hands pressing against his eyelids. _Why, son? Why?_ Shaking his head a little, Benton fought down the lump that had formed in his throat. _No, Jonny, I don't need an explanation. I still love you. I'll always love you. What you did...they made you do it. It wasn't you, son. It wasn't you._

"Father?"

Hadji's voice broke through Benton's silent mantra. Lowering his hands and opening his eyes, he turned to his oldest son, putting the best smile on his face that he could muster. "I'm sorry, Hadji, I just got lost there for a moment." Looking up at Estella, he saw the same look of worry on her countenance that was still on Hadji's. "Yes, Estella, perhaps you can assist Hadji while I continue my trials on the formula that I hope will counteract the damage The Consortium's drugs are doing to these kids' brains."

"Ok, Benton." Estella nodded a little. "Anything I can assist with."

"Agent Roberts," Benton called out to the linguist who was seated on the other side and down at the end of the table. Along with Agent Altine and Agent Reynolds, he was working on the arduous task of narrowing down the cell phones on the ship that Jonny was on. When he looked up at the scientist, Benton could tell they weren't having much luck.

Roberts' injuries were almost completely healed, but parts of his forehead and scalp were still covered in bandages that protected his sutures. Benton had known Agent Roberts longer than most of the other I-1 agents, excluding Race and Phil. Roberts was a linguist and interpreter by trade, but Benton was aware that Roberts' involvement in this affair and subsequent brush with death was propelling the man towards a more active role as a field agent. Benton was grateful for Roberts' continued dedication and support, even after Ezekiel Rage almost killed him on a lonely street in a Moscow slum.

Roberts stood, his movements not nearly as stiff as they had been days earlier. Benton saw Karla's hand go to Roberts' hip for support. _Dedication all around._ Benton mused, a tiny grin curling up on the edge of his lips.

"Yes, Doctor Quest?" Roberts asked.

"Any progress?"

"Similar to Hadji, it has been slow going. Currently we've catalogued over a hundred cell phones on that ship. The ship's crew appears to be fairly large in size and it appears some of the men on board have more than one cell phone. We've managed to isolate and eliminate thirty three phones from the pool, to include the phones used by the Captain and First mate. If Van Brandt or your son are using cell phones we will find them, Doctor, it's just going to take time."

Benton frowned, but nodded towards the agent. "Thank you, Agent Roberts."

"We're also working on satellite phone usage too." Altine added. "While there are less of those types of communication devices on board, they are more difficult to trace, especially if they are using prepaid cards. I have tapped into seventeen satellite phones and Terry is still translating some of the recorded conversations we've obtained from both the cell phones and satellite phones."

"The ship employs men from a number of different countries. While I assume most speak or understand English to some degree, they generally converse in their native tongues." Roberts explained, rifling through a number of printouts on the table in front of him. "So far, I've read conversations ranging from men speaking to their wives, children, friends, bookies, mistresses and so on. Some conversations I'd rather not repeat." He added, blushing slightly.

"But nothing from Van Brandt or Jonny." Benton guessed.

"No, Sir, not yet." Roberts looked disappointed in reporting the lack of news. "Our files on David Van Brandt do not show that he speaks any language other than English, however he was an SAS operative and could have learned some skills that he never tested on or had annotated in his records."

"So why are you not just focusing on English conversations?" Estella asked the linguist.

"Because Van Brandt may have skills that enable him to communicate in other languages or he may be using codes. We just don't know and I do not want to risk overlooking something because we eliminated a conversation without vetting it properly. As an example, my file only annotates the languages I tested for and am being paid for, however I can understand and speak enough other languages to get by if need be, such as Africana and Pashtu just to name a couple."

"I see." Estella lowered her eyes.

Roberts' expression however, had not changed. He was simply stating the facts, regardless of personal feelings. And the more time he spent explaining his actions to Benton and Estella, the less time he had to translate, Benton realized.

"Thank you, Terry. Just keep up the good work and if you find anything…"

"I'll let you know immediately, Doctor." Roberts smiled a little then sat back down to his work. Altine and Reynolds, each on their own workstations continued with the daunting task of cell phone trace and analysis.

With everyone actively engaged, Benton gave Hadji a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder then moved back to his own workstation to reengage his own work on his medical formulas.

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Jonny kept his back to the water. It wasn't the first time he'd been aboard a vessel in open waters, however it was the largest vessel he'd ever traveled on and the enormity of the ship in relation to the sea was making his stomach churn. Even the ship that Jonny was being transported on when Temple rescued him was not nearly as large as this one. Men worked all around the deck, but they left the teen and his companion alone.

A glance at Van Brandt revealed the man's confidence in his dealings with the hired mercenaries. He nonchalantly examined his hands. Even with having been on board the filthy vessel for days, Van Brandt still maintained his perfectly manicured nails. While not as flamboyant as his fellow Englishman, Lucius Kreed, David Van Brandt still portrayed himself as an aristocrat of impeccable pedigree. Jonny didn't know if it was an act or if the man truly was from upper society, but he didn't really care one way or the other. As long as Van Brandt ushered him safely back to The Consortium, Jonny was willing to overlook his eccentric mannerisms.

Heavy footsteps drew Jonny's gaze to the right. The big Cajun was striding towards them. The man was dressed the same, black cargo pants, scuffed boots, and a white long sleeve long john top that hugged his massive frame, accentuating every muscle on his upper body. He also wore his beanie cap and sunglasses, protecting his eyes from the glare. He was smoking a cigarette. But the thing that Jonny's eyes focused on was the tan Sig Sauer 516 rifle that hung between his right arm and torso, held there by a strap looped around his shoulder. He also wore a drop down leg holster, but Jonny couldn't tell what type of handgun the man had secured in it. That and the fact that his younger, more sadistic comrade wasn't with him.

The Cajun stopped a number of paces from Jonny and Van Brandt and placed his meaty hand on the grip of his rifle, pulling it forward in front of his body. He didn't raise it though and kept the weapon aimed at the deck. However, Jonny knew the man was posturing, showing them that he could raise his rifle and fire before either of them could draw their own weapons.

"You got the money?" The man asked. His eyes momentarily drifting towards the gym bag Jonny held.

"Of course. I am a man of my word." Van Brandt replied. "Where is your partner?"

The Cajun jerked his head upward. Jonny followed the direction he'd indicated and discovered where the other man was lurking. Crouching on top of a stack of containers, the younger mercenary held a similar rifle as the Cajun, only this one was pointed straight at the duo.

Jonny sneered. They'd allowed the men to corner them. _Temple would have never been so careless._

"Do you not trust us?" Van Brandt chuckled.

The Cajun grunted. "Let me see the money."

Van Brandt gave Jonny the signal. Jonny tossed the bag at the Cajun's feet. The man crouched down and unzipped the bag. He rifled through the contents and appeared to be satisfied that the entire amount was there. Closing it, he dropped his cigarette, grinding it under his boot so he could pick up the bag and stand. "Now, where's this container?"

"A diagram showing its location is in the bag." Van Brandt explained. "You'll conduct four checks throughout the day and night. Examine the lock and the exterior. Ensure it has not been tampered with in any way. If you find anything suspicious, you report it to me immediately."

"Fair enough." The leader nodded. "What about you two?"

"I want one of you with us at all times. Even when we sleep, however you will not enter our quarters. If you need to enlist more men…"

"We don't." The Cajun interrupted.

Jonny figured the mercenaries had no interest in sharing their spoils with men they didn't know.

"Very well." Van Brandt replied. "The young man and I will be together at all times from now until the end of our journey. This arrangement should allow for you and your man to figure out the best means for our protection while at the same time conducting the container checks. Yes?"

"Let us handle that." The big man replied evenly.

"Excellent. Now if your confederate would be so kind as to aim his weapon somewhere other than at us, I believe your duty has begun."

Jonny's lips curled into a little smile. He did have to give Van Brandt credit, the man was smooth. The Cajun jerked his head at his man and Jonny watched him fall back and out of sight. Within two minutes the man was on the deck and standing next to his partner.

"I expect you both to maintain yourselves as professionals. Sleep, eat, and conduct your hygiene when the other is on guard. No more drinking or gambling. You can resume those activities once our contract comes to an end. Is that clear?" Van Brandt explained casually as if he was addressing a couple of school aged children, not hardened killers.

"This isn't our first rodeo." The leader replied through tight lips. "You've paid us, so we're under your employ as of this moment."

"I knew you were men that could be counted on." Van Brandt replied. "Lastly, if I am conducting business you will keep your eyes open and your ears shut. Maintain an appropriate distance, but be close enough to react if needed. I'm not paying you to eavesdrop on my business, only to watch our backs while aboard this vessel."

The Cajun nodded to his man. "He's got first watch. I'll go find your container."

"Fine." Van Brandt waved and stepped away. Jonny wasn't too happy about having to stick to Van Brandt's side for the remainder of their voyage, especially since he had no idea how long the trip would last. However, he knew that having the mercenaries would provide an extra set of eyes, watching over them amongst the shady members of the ship's crew. In a way, it did give Jonny a new level of comfort. He'd prefer Temple over all three of these men, but Temple was dead and there was no bringing him back. He'd just have to make due.

The Cajun disappeared with the bag of money and his younger partner fell in step behind Jonny and the Brit. Jonny observed the hired gun from the corner of his eye. His face was a blank mask, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. He wore his ball cap backwards on his head. He wasn't as tall as his companion, but he was just as built. He wore a tight fitting short sleeve shirt and Jonny could make out a number of tattoos on both his arms poking out from beneath the fabric. Jonny assumed the merc sported even more tats on other parts of his body; he seemed like the type. He cradled his weapon in his arms as his head swiveled from side to side, observing, watching. He didn't speak to them at all and Jonny recalled the man's claims earlier in the mess hall.

He found himself growing genuinely curious about these men _. What were their names? Their real names?_ _Where did they come from? What were their backgrounds? What caused them to become mercenaries? What kind of fighting had they been involved in?_ However, for the moment at least, Jonny figured it was best not to speak to the man.

 _Hell, maybe I can learn a thing or two from these mercs._ Jonny thought to himself with a one more quick glance back at the young man.

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Dugger found the container in question easily enough. He knew it had to be where they were holding Temple's body. Why they'd taken him and what they planned to do with the man's corpse once they reached their final destination perplexed the I-1 agent, but in the end it was minuscule when stacked against the real mission at hand. Protecting Jonny was what mattered; not Temple's corpse. But Dugger still wondered; wondered why Temple had turned against his country and against I-1. Wondered what had caused his one-time friend to develop such a deeply rooted hatred for Bannon. He knew about the nerve gas that Temple had been exposed to, however that didn't explain all of it.

Shaking his head, Dugger pushed the thoughts away. He'd hounded Velk to remain focused and he had to do the same thing. They'd been fortunate that Van Brandt had approached and hired them. It made their job easier. But it was still dangerous and Dugger knew it. Vigilance was what mattered now. He'd get his chance at Van Brandt and Grimm when the time came. He just had to remain patient.

Pulling out his phone, he glanced around to make sure he was alone. Opening the appropriate app, he typed out the coded message hurriedly, but also ensuring his big fingers didn't hit the wrong symbols. Morse code was a pain in the ass, but since it was used so infrequently, it was the perfect means of communicating and especially over the secured network I-1 used.

Giving the message a once over to ensure it was correct, he hit send then stowed his phone back in his pocket. Picking up the bag, he looked towards the sky. He smiled and waved. Then just for fun, he mouthed the words "Who Dat?" accompanied by a thumbs up.

Stepping away, Dugger headed back to his quarters.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

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"Mister Bannon, I've been reviewing your recovery reports and you've made significant progress. Therefore, I'm clearing you for travel."

Race attempted to contain the grin that formed on his lips as the doctor spoke. He didn't succeed in doing a very good job. He'd been out of the ICU for a week and a half and the last few days he'd been up and moving about the private room they'd given him. He wasn't back to one hundred percent and he knew it, but staying cooped up in this remote hospital on the CIA compound was just as detrimental to Race's mental health and staying put in the bed was to his physical health; Race need to be up and moving and back in the fight to find Jonny.

To find Jonny and bring him home.

Race was already pushing the blanket off of his legs and moving to stand as the doctor continued to speak. "I do ask that you limit yourself to light duty and continue to do the stretching and exercises the physical therapist has shown you."

 _Light duty, yeah right._ Race smirked to himself.

But in the interest of saving time and avoiding any delays, he replied, "Will do, doc."

"I'm serious, Mister Bannon," The doctor grumbled, obviously not fooled by Race's response. "Your strength is quite impressive, however, contrary to what you may believe, you are still human. Unnecessary strain on your injuries could exacerbate them and cause you to be right back in the hospital."

"I promise, doctor. I'll be careful." Race stated with a bit more confidence in his voice.

Jessie entered just then, followed by Corbin.

"Heard the news, dad!" Jessie exclaimed, bounding over towards her father.

"Hey, Ponchita." Race grinned. Jessie was on him a moment later, wrapping her arms around him for a quick hug.

"His discharge papers will be ready shortly." The doctor was telling Phil. "He can sign them at the desk."

Race watched the doctor depart, closing the door behind him. Phil came over and set a gym bag down on the end of the bed. "Clothes and your things." He stated.

"Thanks," Race gave his friend a nod as Jessie stepped back so he could stand. Grabbing the bag, Race made his way towards the bathroom.

After a quick shower and shave, Race dressed and stepped back into the room. The shower had felt like a miracle, the hot water working to sooth his weary and stiff muscles. But now it was time to get back to work. Taking a seat in one of the chairs, he pulled on his boots. Lacing them up he asked, "So where do we stand?"

"Last report from Dugger has the vessel nearing the Straits of Gibraltar," Phil explained, his tone all business. "Once they pass through, I've arranged for the vessel to be boarded."

"Why?" Race asked. Boots secured on his feet, he stood and looped his belt around his waist so he could secure his holster and firearm on his hip.

"So they can get Dugger some tracking equipment in the event something happens." Phil stated. "He and Velk have been hired by Van Brandt as bodyguards, however they're still concerned that it could be a trap."

"You think Van Brandt would have them killed once they reach their final destination?" Race asked. He saw Jessie wince out of the corner of his eye. As much as his daughter had seen throughout this entire ordeal, it was obvious that were aspects that still bothered the teen. And they should.

"I wouldn't put it past him to try, but Dug and Velk are expecting it. They know what they're doing and they wouldn't let Van Brandt get the drop on them." Phil nodded. "But Pete wants to tag Jonny just in case they do get separated and I agree with him."

"We've come too far to lose him again." Race agreed.

"Right." Phil sighed.

"So what do we do now?" Jessie asked.

"We head back to Landstuhl to regroup with the others." Phil explained. "The Air Force has an aircraft standing by to take us back. Jade will come with us."

"How has she been holding up?" Race inquired.

Jessie frowned. Race knew his daughter's feelings towards the woman, but Jade had been there for Race more times than he'd cared to count and it was still difficult for him to believe that she had been a willing participant in The Consortium's plot to conduct biological attacks throughout the world.

From the look on Phil's face, Race knew the Director's feelings for Jade were on par with Jessie's. Race couldn't blame Corbin. Jade operated on the other side of the law most of the time, which caused quite a bit of friction between her and Corbin, even when the woman assisted him in the past.

Phil shrugged, "I didn't really ask."

Race let it go. Nothing was going to change Phil's opinion of Jade. If anything, Race would talk to Phil about it later, once this was all over. Once Jonny was back home.

"I'll go check on your paperwork," Phil said a moment later. "Meet me at the front desk and we'll head out to the airstrip shortly."

Race was on his feet, intercepting his friend before Phil left the room. Coming up to him, Race put a hand on Phil's shoulder. "Phil, thanks again for saving my ass," then he subtly nodded his head towards Jessie and added, "for everything."

"Sure." Phil replied with a weak smile. Race could tell his friend was tired and probably beating himself up for losing Jonny back in Mogadishu. But he also knew there was more to it. Race figured Phil was as torn about Temple as he was.

Lowering his voice, Race went on, "Hey, man, stop beating yourself up over this. It's not your fault that Temple turned against us. He made his choices. And he died because of those choices."

"Race," Phil sighed. "I just want this to be over. I want to go home and see my family."

"You will, brother." Race said encouragingly.

Phil nodded in agreement, but his body language said otherwise. "If you say so, Race."

Phil turned to leave, but Race held him firm. "What's with you, Phil? What's going on?"

Phil shook his head, "Nothing, I'm just tired. And my gut is telling me that the worst is still to come."

"We've been in worse situations than this, Corbin," Race stated. "And we've made it out of those just fine."

"Have we?" Phil threw back. Race blinked. Phil had a point. The Director shrugged out of Race's grasp. "Let's just go get Jonny. The rest will work itself out."

"Alright," Race nodded and watched his friend depart.

"What was the all about?" Jessie asked when Race moved back to her side to collect the gym bag. "Is he okay?"

"Phil will be fine, Ponchita. He just misses his family. Don't worry about him." Race told his daughter with a smile. "We'll get Jonny back and everything will go back to the way things were. You'll see."

Jessie nodded. Placing an arm around her shoulder, Race guided his daughter towards the door. He had to wonder though. Would everything really be fine? Race had looked into Jonny's eyes when the teen had tried to kill him. He had to remind himself that the Jonny Quest they were trying to save was still in there somewhere, even if the teen's eyes had said otherwise. He had to be or else all their efforts would be for naught. All the blood, sweat, and tears the entire team had given and was still giving would have been wasted.

 _No._ Race told himself. _Jonny is still in there. I promised Benton I'd bring him home and that's what I intend to do. No matter what. No matter what._

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"Wait here." Jonny told the Cajun.

He'd yet to learn the man's name, or his partner's name, but right now names were not that important. For days the men had rotated guarding Jonny and Van Brandt and while neither man had yet given up his name, Jonny had started to gain a certain level of comfort around them regardless.

But not in the locker room.

"There are others already here. I'm coming with you." The bodyguard answered, adhering to the terms of his contract.

Van Brandt had already showered and was currently getting dressed at the far end of the locker room.

"You should stay here to watch both of us." Jonny told him. "Just hang out at the edge. I'll be fine."

The Cajun grumbled, his eyes moving between Jonny and Van Brandt.

"Fine. But be quick." The Cajun finally stated begrudgingly.

Exhaling, Jonny nodded. He didn't want to linger in the showers any longer than he had to, but he did need to get clean.

Stepping into the open bay, Jonny wandered towards one of the shower heads, careful of his footing on the slick tile floor. Even with flip flops, which he'd been thankful Van Brandt's contact had provided before they set sail, the floor was slippery.

Setting down his ablution items, Jonny cranked the water on then stripped off his towel, hanging it on a nearby hook. He hated being exposed, but the open shower room provided no privacy. As the steam began to rise, he stepped under the stream, letting the hot water run over his weary muscles. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the Cajun standing just off to the side of the entrance, his head moving constantly between Jonny and the area where Van Brandt was.

Turning his head and craning his neck, Jonny let the water stream over his face. It felt good.

Picking up the bottle of all in one body wash, Jonny squeezed some into his hands and ran it into his hair. Eventually he'd need a haircut, his blonde locks growing longer and thicker than normal, the end curling into little loops about half way down the back of his neck.

He heard voices over the rushing water, then more shower heads being turned on. He kept his eyes forward, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone else that occupied the bay. But he did glance back towards the mercenary and saw the man had stepped back, his head turned away. Jonny assumed he was talking to Van Brandt.

Sticking his head under the stream, Jonny started to rinse his hair. It was then that he heard deep laughter converging on him.

"Look at the pretty little boy." A rough voice with a deep accent grumbled.

Jonny gulped. _Not good._

Turning his head, he found three men standing around him as the steam engulfed the room and obscured his vision, preventing him from seeing his bodyguard. And if Jonny couldn't see him, that meant the Cajun couldn't see Jonny either.

 _Definitely not good._

All three men were bare chested and had towels wrapped around their waists. While they were all of varying heights, they each were fairly well built. The man who had spoken stood slightly closer to Jonny, his comrades flanking him on the left and right.

He took another step. Jonny had seen these men in passing and he thought they worked in the engine room or perhaps operated some of the heavy equipment topside that moved the containers. At the moment, their occupations on board the cargo vessel didn't matter; what did matter to Jonny was his need to figure a way out before these men acted upon whatever it was that drew them to the teen. Jonny had a pretty good idea what their intentions were.

He couldn't place the man's accent, but thought he could be Russian or from a former Soviet Bloc country. His chest and arms were covered in hair and he sported a close cropped haircut and neatly trimmed beard. His hands were massive and when one reached forward, Jonny took a step back, ready to defend himself.

"Back off, pal. I'm not interested." Jonny sneered.

"I did not ask if you were interested, pretty boy." The man grumbled.

"Don't do this." Jonny spat, hoping he didn't sound as frightened as he thought he did.

The man laughed, then grabbed Jonny by the arm. His other hand shot out and wrapped around Jonny's mouth, preventing him from calling out. Sneering, the man twisted Jonny in his grasp and slammed his back against the tiled wall of the shower.

"I am going to enjoy this. And so will my comrades." The man growled. Still holding Jonny by the mouth the man's eyes wander up and down Jonny's naked body. When his eyes met Jonny's again, he was grinning like a madman.

Jonny attacked in the only way he could. He bit the meaty part of the man's palm that was pressed against his mouth. With a snarl, the perpetrator grunted and let go.

With only a short window of opportunity, Jonny tried to push by his would-be rapist, but the man recovered from the bite, which appeared to have surprised him more than hurt him. Reaching out, he snagged Jonny's arm and threw him down to the wet floor.

Pain shot through Jonny's entire body as his head cracked against the mildew encrusted tiles.

"You little shit." The man growled. "Just for that I'm going to make it hurt. I'm going to make you bleed."

Jonny tried to crawl away, but the Russian was already looming over him. Jonny cowered when his attacker ripped his towel away, exposing himself and his excitement to Jonny.

He reached down and picked Jonny up off the floor. Jonny froze, terror paralyzing him, preventing him from moving. All three men were laughing again as the leader pressed the front of Jonny's body against the wall, exposing his backside.

"Don't. Please." Jonny pleaded. The Russian's meaty hand gripped the back of Jonny's head, his fingers entangled in the blonde's damp hair, pushing the side of Jonny's face hard against the wall.

"Go ahead and beg. It'll just make me more excited." The man growled in Jonny's ear as he pressed his body against Jonny. Tears welled in Jonny's eyes when he felt the man's erection pressing against him. A pained whimper escaped his lips when the rapist's free hand was spreading Jonny's legs.

Jonny closed his eyes as fear took over. _No._ _Help me. Temple. Dad. Race. Somebody help me._

Grunts and shouts filled Jonny's ears.

"Unhand him."

"Let him go."

It was Van Brandt and the Cajun.

Jonny opened his eyes and from the corner of his vision he saw the two men standing on the other side of the rapist's partners.

"Back off, merc." The Russian spat, but their presence stopped him from his act of rape. "He's mine. You can have him when we're done."

"You ain't havin' that boy at all." The Cajun growled. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size."

The Russian sneered and grunted to his compatriot that stood closest to the Cajun. Still pressed against the wall by his attacker, Jonny's breathing was quick and erratic as he watched the men through squinted eyes. The medium sized man stepped forward and shoved the Cajun in the chest. It was a daring move as the mercenary stood at least eight inches taller and weighed a good sixty plus pounds more. Jonny heard the Cajun grumble and when the man pushed him again, the big man attacked.

He didn't bother to use any of the weapon's he carried. He kept his rifle slung over his back. He didn't need them.

With one hand, the Cajun snatched his antagonist's wrist when he touched him. Twisting hard, the Cajun turned the smaller man's wrist and jerked his arm, causing the man to cry out from the jolt of pain as Jonny heard bones snap like twigs.

Lifting the man slightly off the ground, the Cajun grabbed his captive's head with his other oversized hand. Pivoting his feet and twisting his hips, he slammed the goon's head into the wall. Tiles shattered, blood splattered and the man's skull crunched and crushed on impact. The Cajun let go and the body dropped. Jonny's eyes followed the man's body as it hit the floor and the grisly display made Jonny gag; with one single blow the Cajun had caved in half of the other man's head.

Van Brandt had gone for the third man. While not as powerful as the Cajun, he possessed his own unique hand to hand combat skills. With a finesse that should have been impossible in the steamy, wet shower room, Van Brandt spun on his heel, executing a perfect round house kick that connected with the man's jaw, sending him staggering into the wall near where his comrade had just lost his life. Before he could recover, Van Brandt was on him and Jonny watched with amazement as the Englishman rammed his elbow into the man's nose. The man groaned and slid down to the floor, his eyes fluttering.

The rapist turned and loosened his hold on Jonny. Facing the Cajun he asked, "How much?"

"What?" The Cajun sneered.

"How much do you want? I'll pay you right now to walk away."

"I'm already employed. And even if I wasn't, I don't take money from men that rape kids." The Cajun spat.

The Russian gulped, let go of his prey and stepped away. Jonny dropped to the floor, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around his knees. Van Brandt was there. Turning off the water and tossing Jonny's towel to him. Both men then turned their attention to the standoff between the Russian engine room worker and the Cajun mercenary.

The Russian must have known at that moment that he was done for. Yet even in his naked state, he attacked. Rushing forward, the man lowered his head and rammed his shoulder into the bigger man's sternum. The Cajun exhaled from the blow and before he could get his arms around the man's torso, the Russian twisted and drove a powerful fist up into the bodyguard's jaw.

The merc staggered, but the blow didn't fell him. Shaking his head, he sidestepped another lunge and kicked the Russian in the side of the knee as he passed. Losing his balance, the rapist slipped on the slick floor and fell to his hands and knees.

The Cajun didn't give him an opportunity to recover. Lashing out, his boot connected with the man's jaw, sending him sprawling to his back, his face a mess of blood, dirty water, and soap.

Straddling the fallen man, Jonny watched his hired protector land punch after solid punch to the Russian's face, turning it into a bloody pulp.

But to Jonny's surprise the Russian was still alive and he raised his hands in front of his face in a gesture of surrender.

"Please," The beaten man pleaded. "I'll pay you double what they are paying you. Just let me live. I swear I won't touch the kid."

Jonny watched the Cajun pause, a fist raised in midair. He looked towards Jonny and Van Brandt. Even through the evaporating steam and fog of the showers, Jonny saw something in the man's eyes that he'd not yet seen. He saw genuine concern. Jonny blinked.

Lowering his hand, the Cajun pressed his palms on the naked man's chest, pushing himself up to his feet. Staring down at the broken and naked rapist, the mercenary responded, "I told you once, I don't take money from men that rape kids."

The mercenary's actions were swift and vicious. Pulling his pistol from his leg holster, the Cajun stepped back and aimed it at the Russian's face. Then with a smirk, he lowered the weapon. The Russian's eyes went wide with fear.

"Het!" The rapist cried, but it didn't matter.

The Cajun fired into the man's groin. The boom from the pistol amplified against the tiles of the shower, but it was drowned out by the man's pained screams as his genitals were torn apart by the Cajun's bullet.

"You bastard." The man cried between tears as he rolled around on his back, his hands shaking as they went to cover his destroyed manhood.

Jonny gagged from the overbearing stench of blood that suddenly filled the room.

"Perhaps you should have thought about your actions a bit more carefully." The Cajun stated, his voice calm and smooth.

"I'll kill you for this." The man groaned.

"No you won't." The Cajun answered then raised his handgun once more and fired. The gun kicked in his hand as the round slammed into the Russian's head. His body fell back, dead.

 _This guy is as vicious as Temple._ Jonny thought as he watched the hired mercenary execute the man that had walked into the shower room with the intention of raping Jonny.

The big Cajun went to the man that Van Brandt had injured. Alive and terrified, he tried to scoot away from the Cajun. He had nowhere to go. Reaching down, the mercenary wrapped his hand around the man's neck and lifted him off the floor, his towel falling from his waist as he did.

The bodyguard slammed the man against the wall, then stuck the barrel of his handgun to the man's groin. "Look at them." The Cajun growled, turning the captive's head towards Jonny and Van Brandt. Then he turned it back towards him. "Now look at me. Tell the rest of your miserable crew mates what happened to your friends just now. Tell them these two are under the protection of me and my associate. You know what he looks like, yes?"

The man nodded his head as vigorously as he could within the bodyguard's meaty grasp. "Yes. I've seen him."

"If anyone, and I mean anyone, comes near these two again or even looks at them the wrong way, they'll regret it until their last dying breath. And they'll wish they only ended up like your two buddies here, you get me?"

"Ye…Yes…Yes." The man said.

To drive home his point, the mercenary pushed the barrel of his handgun harder against the man's exposed genitals causing him to cry out in pain and fright.

"And keep your filthy cock to yourself from now on. Or I'll cut it off and throw it overboard as chum for the sharks."

With that the mercenary stepped back and let go of the man's throat. Falling to his knees, gasping for breath the lone survivor of the raping crew shook in absolute terror.

"Now get the fuck out of here." The Cajun snapped.

The man scrambled on his hands and knees, searching for his towel. The mercenary kicked him in the backside, "I didn't say get your towel. I said get the fuck out of here!"

The man didn't need any more encouragement; as fast as he could, he crawled up from his hands and knees and bolted out of the shower without a look back at the trio.

When they were alone, Jonny finally exhaled. The Cajun looked at him as Van Brandt helped Jonny to his feet while Jonny worked to wrap the towel around his waist.

"He didn't get anywhere with you, did he?" The Cajun holstered his pistol.

Jonny shook his head, not meeting the man's eyes. "No, he didn't." He felt ashamed, but he was thankful the Russian had been stopped.

The big man nodded, then looked at Van Brandt. "You can dock my pay as you see fit. Those men should have never gotten by me to begin with."

That caught Jonny off guard. But it appeared the Cajun was actually embarrassed he'd allowed the men to get as close to his charge as they did.

Van Brandt was about to speak, but Jonny raised his hand, stopping him. Looking at the Cajun, Jonny said, "It's up to him since he's paying you, but I don't think that's necessary. I think you more than made up for your error with these two." He waved a hand at the dead men without looking at them. "And I'm sure their partner will spread word quickly throughout the ship."

Van Brandt nodded, "Fine."

"We'll wait in the locker room while I get my man down here to help me clean up this mess."

"What about the Captain?" Jonny asked.

"I'll pay him off with part of my cash. He'll manage without these two, I'm sure." The Cajun replied.

Jonny nodded and headed towards the locker room. When Van Brandt and the Cajun fell in step, Jonny paused and said, "By the way, thank you."

The Cajun didn't respond with words. He just grunted and nodded back to the blonde.

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Stretched out across some of the jump seats of the C-17, Jessie struggled to keep her eyes open.

"Get some rest, Ponchita." Race draped a blanket over her then knelt down in front of her face. She smiled, happy to see him moving about, albeit a bit wearily. "It's a long flight."

"You should rest too, dad." Jessie yawned, her eyelids droopy.

Phil was already asleep a few seats further down the row. Lying on his back, arms crossed over his chest, with one leg hanging over the seats, he had a beanie cap pulled over his eyes. Even over the hum of the engines, Jessie could hear the man's light snoring. She smiled a little. She didn't think she'd ever understand how men like her father, Corbin, and the other I-1 agents managed to be able to sleep just about anywhere at any time.

Jade was seated on the other side of the plane, keeping to herself. Jessie couldn't help but wonder what internal struggles the woman was battling. Jade was a lot of things that Jessie didn't like, but one thing the woman wasn't was a cold hearted killer. So the knowledge that her actions had caused the deaths of so many innocent people must be tearing her apart. Jessie was determined to keep her distance from Jade, but part of her still couldn't help but feel a small amount of pity for the woman.

"I will, sweetheart." Race promised with a kiss to her forehead, bringing Jessie's thoughts back to her father and away from the mysterious woman.

"Promise?" Jessie asked with another yawn.

"Promise." Race smiled.

Jessie nodded. Fighting to stop gravity from pulling her eyelids closed completely, Jessie's eyes followed her father around the open cargo bay of the aircraft. They were the only passengers and there was two pallets of cargo strapped down closer to the rear of the plane. The flight crew left them alone, going about their duties with quiet professionalism. Jessie watched her father check on Phil for a moment and when Race appeared satisfied that his friend was still out, he went and sat next to Jade. Jessie frowned a little as she studied her father and his on-again, off-again girlfriend, but eventually gravity won and sleep finally overtook her.

 _"Remember the techniques we went over, Ponchita." Race stated._

 _Jessie was flat on her back, Jonny on top of her, one hand clutching a handful of her gi and his knee placed precariously over her thigh, rolling against her hipbone. His hold was causing her a slight amount of physical discomfort, but it was the mental frustration that was getting to the redhead._

 _She was a Bannon and Bannon's didn't get laid out on their backs, even if this was just ju-jitsu training._

 _Remembering to breathe, Jessie attempted to break Jonny's hold, but he moved with her, keeping her pinned beneath him. He smiled._

 _That smile irritated Jessie. But she refused to tap out._

 _Sneering, Jessie let out a grunt and tried to push herself up. Jonny still wouldn't let her. Rolling to her stomach, Jessie brought her knees up beneath her, forcing Jonny to reposition himself._

 _"There you go, kiddo." Race encouraged. "Think through it."_

 _Her breathing was getting heavier, shorter and she started to sweat. Reaching for Jonny's arm, she tried to get him off balance, force him to roll so she could regain the advantage. But Jonny had been training with her father longer than she had. He knew more and could anticipate her movements and strikes._

 _Jessie's irritation was quickly rising to the level of full on frustration._

 _Flipping to her back again, Jessie brought her knees up and thrust her feet into Jonny's stomach. That worked. Jonny let go.  
_

 _"Hey!" He exclaimed, "Dirty move, Ace."_

 _Jessie's lips curled into a snarl and she kicked again. Jonny moved to protect himself, but her foot managed to graze him below the belt. Jonny fell back on the mat, clutching himself._

 _"Stop!" Race ordered when he saw his daughter's attack. "That's enough, Jess."_

 _Jonny was groaning. Jessie sat back and shook her head. She didn't know what had come over her._

 _'Yes you do, Bannon.' Her inner voice scolded. 'He bested you and as a Bannon you can't handle that.'_

 _"What was that all about?" Race questioned his daughter after Jonny gave him a wave that he'd be alright._

 _"I'm sorry, I just...I got frustrated." Jessie confessed._

 _"Getting frustrated just makes matters worse."_

 _"It got him off me, didn't it?" Jessie countered._

 _"This is training. Sure, in a real, knock down drag out fight, you do what it takes to win." Race lectured. Jessie didn't appreciate the look in her father's eyes. He was disappointed in her. "But kicking a guy in the balls won't always get him to back off. Sometimes it just enrages him even more. You have to know how to break holds, get your opponent off balance, set yourself up to have the stronger position and then you can decide whether to fight of flee."_

 _"I know," Jessie frowned._

 _"Let's take a break."_

 _"I can keep going," Jessie argued. A look at Jonny told her that he was going to be okay and was already looking like he was ready to keep rolling._

 _"I said we'll take a break." Race countered, his tone leaving no room for arguments. "In fact, let's just call it right here. I can tell your mind isn't in it, Jess."_

 _"Dad!" Jessie crowed._

 _"No arguments." Race stated firmly._

 _"Fine." Jessie snorted, pushing herself to her feet. Making her way to the edge of the mat, she turned and did a quick bow, then stepped off, grabbing her gym bag from where'd she'd dropped it earlier._

 _"Such bullshit." She mumbled, making her way towards the exit of the Quest Compound's massive workout complex. "Men always sticking together."_

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He was still shaken up by the encounter in the showers, so Jonny grabbed a joint from the baggie he had stowed in his gym bag and headed out of their quarters. Van Brandt gave him a look, but didn't say anything. Jonny could tell by the look on the biochemist's face that he was concerned for Jonny's mental state. Jonny was nowhere near as close to the Brit as he had been with Temple, yet he didn't mind Van Brandt's concerns; it meant that Jonny still had someone that seemed to truly care about him.

Closing the door, Jonny stepped to the side of the hallway and lit the joint. Inhaling deeply, he let the smoke linger to calm his rattled nerves. It wasn't until he exhaled the thick cloud that he looked at the two men standing on the other side of the doorway.

The mercenaries had been speaking, but they paused when Jonny turned towards them. "What?" He asked in response to their questioning looks.

The Cajun nodded to his compatriot and the younger man stepped off and headed down the hallway. When he passed through the doorway at the end of the hall, Jonny leaned against the bulkhead and took another puff. He offered the joint to the Cajun, but the man held up a hand and shook his head, refusing the offer.

Jonny shrugged, "Where's your friend going?"

"To make his rounds." The Cajun answered. "How are you feeling?"

Jonny eyed the mercenary before answering. Even after the Cajun had saved him from being raped, Jonny wondered why the man seemed to care so much for Jonny's well-being. "Do you really care?"

"I take my job seriously," The big man replied. "So, yes, I do care. What happened to you should never happen to anyone."

"He didn't rape me." Jonny replied. As much as he wanted to forget the entire ordeal, it was difficult to do so, even with the aid of marijuana. He'd consumed one of Temple's powder mixtures when he'd returned to the small living quarters, but it had only helped for a short time. He wished he had something harder.

"I shouldn't have let those men get by me." The Cajun shook his head as he spoke, rubbing his bearded chin with his free hand. "I turned my back to speak with Van Brandt and they slipped by. I'm sorry."

Jonny gave him another long stare. He didn't expect mercenaries to have feelings, let alone apologize when they messed up. Jonny shrugged, "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Getting stoned isn't going to help."

"Again, why do you care?" Jonny inquired.

"You think because you pay us to protect you that we don't have feelings?" The Cajun retorted. "I've seen what drugs do to men. Strong men. You shouldn't let them control you."

"I don't." Jonny countered.

The Cajun shrugged, "Okay."

No longer wanting to get high, Jonny snubbed the joint out. Looking at the big man, Jonny's eyes traveled up and down his body, keying on the few specks of dried blood on the man's shirt and pants; blood that belonged to the two men he'd killed protecting Jonny. Jonny once again found himself wanting to know more about this man and his friend.

"So, what's your story?" Jonny asked.

"Your companion pays us to guard you, not to engage in small talk." The Cajun shot back.

Jonny kept going. "You're a Cajun. That much I know. I thought you might have been Creole, but your skin tone, accent and your French leads me to believe you're an Acadian. So tell me, what's your story? What made you take up this lifestyle?"

"You're an inquisitive one, boy." The Cajun replied, but Jonny saw a faint smirk on the man's face.

"You're not the first person to tell me that." Jonny answered.

"I like what I do and it pays well." The Cajun answered.

"You like killing people?" Jonny asked.

"It's not all like that," The man's smile had disappeared. "We take jobs that mean something to us. If we don't agree with what a potential employer is asking, we don't take the job."

"Mercenaries with morals, huh?" Jonny laughed a little.

"Call us what you want, kid." The Cajun shot back, shrugging his massive shoulders.

"Your friend doesn't seem as bound to your beliefs."

"He's young and likes to boast." The Cajun defended his comrade. "He's had a rough life and lost friends along the way. But know he's as dedicated to this job as I am. If it had been him in the locker room, he would have done the same thing to protect you."

"Did he really kill a cop?" Jonny asked.

The Cajun shrugged, but didn't answer. Jonny decided to let it go.

"So tell me more about yourself." Jonny continued.

"Now I have to ask why you care so much?" The Cajun grumbled a laugh.

"We've been stuck on this ship for over a week and I'm tired of talking to Van Brandt all the time. So humor me, will ya?"

The Cajun sighed, "Well, I am an Acadian, like you said. And I'm surprised you even know what that means."

"I've been to New Orleans," Jonny remarked with a smile, "and I like to learn a bit about the cultures of the people I meet."

"You travel a lot?" The Cajun asked.

"I have." Jonny left it at that.

"Not one to divulge many details, huh?" The big man grinned. "I like you, boy."

"I'd tell you to stop calling me 'boy' but something about the way you say it is amusing." Jonny laughed.

"You mocking me now?" The Cajun snorted. Jonny watched him lit a cigarette. It reminded him of Temple.

"Not at all," Jonny answered. "New Orleans is a hell of a city."

"I'm not from New Orleans." The Cajun replied after taking a puff off his smoke. "I'm from the Bayou."

"Like those guys on that television show." Jonny laughed, realizing that he felt relaxed around the hired bodyguard. As menacing as the Cajun was, he had an aura about him that made Jonny feel safe and it was more than just the fact he had saved Jonny from being raped in the shower.

The Cajun snorted at that. "Those shows are stupid. But yeah, I'm from the swamps. Not a great life by any means, but it's my heritage."

"You got any family back there?" Jonny found himself thinking about his own family. But they had abandoned him.

"Yeah." The Cajun replied. "You want to know why I do what I do? It's to help them out. This is the only life I know, kid. And I'm good at it, so I make money to send back home while keeping a little for myself too."

"So," Jonny paused, not sure how the man would take his next question, "How can I get in?"

"Excuse me?" The Cajun's eyes narrowed at Jonny.

"Once I'm done with Van Brandt, I've got nothing to go back to and honestly, I'm intrigued."

"You don't have any family?" The Cajun asked.

"None that matter anymore." Jonny lowered his eyes. Without thinking, he relit his joint, the urge to get high suddenly returning.

"You should think about what you're asking, boy." The Cajun answered slowly. "This isn't the glamorous life you're thinking it is."

"Nothing in my life makes sense anymore and honestly, big man, all I want to do is get away from all this shit." Jonny inhaled on the joint. After he exhaled he continued, "I have some things I need to see through to the end, but after that, I don't know what will become of me. If you could use another man on your crew, I have qualifications."

"Like what?" The Cajun asked suspiciously.

"I know how to use a gun," Jonny responded.

"Knowing how to shoot and killing aren't the same."

"I've killed already." Jonny puffed his chest out.

"Have you?" The big man leered at him. "You think that's something to be proud of?"

"I didn't say I was proud of it," Jonny countered, but shrunk back a bit from his boast, "just that I've done it."

"Hmmm," The Cajun mewed. "I don't know. Maybe you oughta go home and find that family of yours before you sell yourself out to be a hired killer."

"I told you, they don't matter anymore." Jonny shot back.

"Maybe you still matter to them."

"There's that merc with morals again." Jonny rolled his eyes.

"Just think about it, boy," The Cajun responded. The doorway at the end of the hall opened with a loud clank and the other mercenary reappeared.

Jonny watched the young man approach his boss without even glancing at Jonny. "All's secure up top."

"Good," The Cajun nodded then stubbed out his cigarette. Turning to Jonny, he said, "My watch is over. Think about what I said."

"And you think about my offer." Jonny told the man.

"Sure thing, boy." The Cajun replied with a smirk. Looking at his partner, he said, "Careful around this one, he wants to join our crew."

"Does he now?" The younger man had a sly look on his face as he turned to gaze at Jonny.

"Yeah," The Cajun nodded, "And the longer I stand here listening to him, the more I think we could use him. So I'm gonna get out of here before I end up contracting with his little punk ass."

Jonny grinned. Again, these mercenaries were not what he was expecting when he'd encountered them on the first evening of their voyage. As the Cajun stepped away, Jonny called to him, "Hey, big man,"

The man paused and looked at him.

"If you're still upset that I took your money during that poker game, I can make it up to you by teaching you how to maintain a poker face."

The younger man laughed and the Cajun actually smiled. "Listen here, boy,"

"Hey," Jonny raised his hands, "Seriously, thank you. I know it's not the tough guy thing to do, saying thank you, but you saved me in that shower from some pretty bad men. So, maybe I'm not tough enough to be in your crew, but I mean it when I say thanks."

"Sure thing, boy." The Cajun nodded.

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The C-17 rolled to a stop. With Jessie on one side of him and Corbin and Jade on the other, Race stared towards the rear of the plane. The engines died down and after a few minutes one of the crew lowered the rear ramp. A rush of cold, winter air shot through the opening. Looking beyond the cargo pallets Race could see snow.

 _How long have we been at this?_

Once the ramp was down, the crew chief waved at the group. Standing, Race couldn't hide a wince from being cooped up on the plane for so long after barely being released from the hospital.

He felt Jessie's eyes on him and Phil's hand on his upper arm.

Race shook his head. "I want to exit on my own."

He didn't know if anyone would be watching, but that didn't really matter. It was for Race's own reassurance that he needed to walk out of the plane and back to face Benton under his own power, without assistance from his friend.

Benton would be torn, Race knew that, but he had to prove to his friend that Race harbored no ill-feelings towards Jonny or Benton for what Jonny had done.

"Alright." Phil replied, letting his hand drop from Race's bicep. Race imagined Phil understood Race's motivations. Of course the Director would be there in the event Race stumbled or faltered, but he'd let Race walk out on his own.

"Let's go." Race stated, leading the group towards the ramp. Jumping down, he groaned from the pain that shot through his wounded leg when his feet impacted with the tarmac, but he didn't stagger. He didn't fall. Phil jumped down next and the two men reached up and helped Jessie and Jade down. The crew chief tossed Phil's gym bag to him and the men exchanged thumbs ups of thanks.

"Can you do this?" Phil asked quietly in Race's ear as they approached the building.

With each step the group took the waiting gaggle of people grew closer. Even as he squinted against the harsh glare of the sun reflecting off the snow banks, Race could make out Benton and Hadji.

"It doesn't matter if I can, Phil," Race answered, jerking his chin towards the two men that were standing their waiting, "I have to. I have no choice."

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 **To Be Continued...**


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Setting the additional cup of coffee down, Benton pulled the metal chair out from beneath the small circular table at the hospital's coffee shop. Taking a seat, he let out a pained sigh as his eyes traveled everywhere except at the gaze of his long time friend and confidant, Race Bannon.

"Thanks," Race took the coffee. The same tiredness that Benton felt bleeding into Race's words.

"Of course." Benton mumbled. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Race smirked, "but the stiffness and the pain is wearing off with each passing day."

"I'm surprised the Doctor released you so soon." Benton sipped his cup of java.

"The guy probably knew I wouldn't stay cooped up much longer. I can rest and recover when this is all over."

"You've definitely earned a nice vacation." Benton chuckled.

"I think just about every person on this team has earned one." Race agreed.

"Yes," Benton mused. An awkward silence soon engulfed the two friends. Letting a few moments pass, Benton used the time to build up his courage to tackle the real topic he wanted to address with Race. Looking away from the bodyguard's eyes, Benton started, "Race,"

"Benton, you don't have to do this," Race interrupted.

Benton finally forced himself to look into the face of the man willing to give his life to protect Benton and his sons. "No, Race, I do. This isn't just about what happened in Mogadishu. What Jonny did to you. It's about everything."

"Everything?" Race questioned. The look in the white-haired man's eyes told Benton that he knew what Benton meant.

"Yes, since Pennsylvania. Hell, since before that. I've taken so much of your support and dedication for granted over the years, Race. I know when you first came to us it probably wasn't the ideal assignment for you, but so much has happened since then that has brought us to this point in our lives. I don't know what I would have done, how I would have gotten through those times without you, Race. I was an absent father during those early years,"

"You were struggling, Benton," Race spoke softly, sipping the steaming brew with care. "No one faulted you for that."

"Jonny needed me and I wasn't there for him." Benton shook his head, not accepting Race's statement. "But you were. You stepped in when I couldn't. When I couldn't be the father for my only child at the time. And now...now he's gone and done..."

Race cut the scientist off, as a choking sound grew in the man's throat. "Benton, I don't blame Jonny for what he did to me. I don't. He was brainwashed by a man that I once called a friend."

"But Jonny was the one that squeezed the trigger. My son. My son did that to you." Benton protested, struggling to keep his voice at an even level. "And here I've been, all this time, trying to justify to myself my actions and yet you still went out there to find my son and this is the payment you got for it. Race, I'm sorry. You have no idea how much this is tearing me apart inside."

"I think I do, Benton." Race answered softly.

With a sharp inhale, Benton forced himself to keep his eyes on his friend. In a way, seeing Race in his current state; tired, beaten, battered, bruised and wounded gave Benton pause. Because it was those aspects of Race's condition that were obviously driving the other parts of him; determination, dedication, loyalty, courage, commitment. All the characteristics that Benton knew his friend possessed and called upon during these trying times.

"I truly hope when this is all over, Race, we will be able to repair the damage. You, Jonny, and I need to be able to move past this. Hadji and Jessie too, but the root of this pain is between the three of us."

"I'd agree with that assessment," Race nodded. Taking another swig of the coffee, Race set the mug down and leaned forward. A tight grimace scrunched up his face, a result that must have been caused by the dull pain that still ached in his abdomen. "And I'm willing to do my part as well. If I had gotten to those traffickers sooner, we wouldn't be here right now. That's on me. That's all on me. And I'm committed to helping Jonny with his recovery. I knew Greg and I know what he's done. But I honestly believe, Benton, truly believe, that your son is still in there and we'll bring him back. So, please, stop beating yourself up over this. I appreciate the apology and you know something, I owe you one as well."

Benton let loose a pained laugh. "Hardly, Race."

"No, I do," Race shook his head, his eyes hard, yet somehow soft at the same time. "Like I said, I made mistakes too. And I'm sorry for that. And I'll tell Jonny the same when we find him."

The scientist answered with a sip of his coffee and a slow nod. "Thank you, Race. Thank you for understanding."

"Of course, Benton. We've been friends for too long to let this tear us apart."

Benton felt the tears in his eyes, the tightness in his chest as the men fell silent again. In a low, almost inaudible whisper, Benton breathed, "How can Jonny ever be the same after all of this?"

"He won't," Race answered with a sympathetic tone, "But that doesn't mean he's lost, Benton. He'll have to come to terms with what happened and he'll need you there to support him. I can promise you, Benton, I'll be there for him too. But he'll need you more. He'll need his father."

Biting his lower lip, Benton nodded a little. Race's words helped to reassure him, alleviate some of his concerns. "Sometimes I think back and wonder if this was all worth it? If I hadn't of agreed to those R&D contracts with the Government, maybe Rachel would still be alive. Maybe Jonny wouldn't be out there," He waved a hand at the window, "doing God knows what."

"Benton, you know that second guessing doesn't do any good. What's done is done. And the things you've done for the Government, for Intelligence One, you've done amazing things, Benton." Race smiled. "I swear, we've always been amazed at your accomplishments. Those Agents back there," Race jerked a thumb over his shoulder indicating the I-1 team back in the conference room, "They respect you more than you might realize. They're not here because they've been ordered to be here, no, Benton, they're here because they volunteered. Some of your inventions have saved them and their friends, my friends, in the field. They know that having a man like you on our side is worth fighting for."

Benton smiled a little at that. He never really thought about it that sense. "I'm sorry I was so harsh to you back in Pennsylvania. I was so blinded that I couldn't see your loyalty and commitment."

"Benton," Race shook his head again, smiling a little. "Again, don't beat yourself up over it. If anything, what you said to me back then, it centered me. Focused me. I knew I had a job to do and I failed. And I wasn't going to fail you again. And I'm still not going to. I promised you I'd see this through to the end and bring your son home. And that is exactly what I plan to do, regardless of what happened back in Mogadishu."

With a weak smile and a nod, Benton accepted Race's proclamation. Ever since he'd learned about Jonny's actions, Benton had no idea how this interaction with his bodyguard would transpire. Benton knew he needed Race. He'd always need Race. Because Race was a man that was dedicated and loyal and loved Jonny like the son he'd never had; Benton knew as much.

"I just want Jonny back." Benton stated after another period of silence between the two men. "My son is becoming a man and I want him to be a good man. Not the man he's on the path to becoming. Please, Race, bring him back and help Jonny be the type of man he's destined to be."

"I will, Benton," Race replied. His jaw set firm. "I will."

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"So how did you and the Cajun meet?"

Jonny heard the young mercenary snort before his lips curled into a slight grin. Along with Van Brandt, Jonny and the younger hired gun were in the mess hall. Seated at one of the tables, Van Brandt was occuiped drinking coffee and reading a weathered copy of some medical journal he had brought with him. Jonny was across the table from the Englishman, picking at a stale biscuit and sipping the same murky coffee that Van Brandt was consuming. Overall, not a very pleasant meal.

The mercenary was not eating or drinking. He stood next to Jonny at the end of the table, his firing hand wrapped around the pistol grip of his rifle. Dressed in his usual dark cargo pants, t-shirt, and backwards hat, the mercenary brought to Jonny's mind an image of what he imagined a young Greg Temple probably looked like.

"We worked on a job about a year or so back." The man replied. "Now we work together."

"I see," Jonny took a bite from the biscuit, chewing the old pastry in order to work some of the hardness out of it before he swallowed. "You get along?"

"Well enough." The man shrugged.

Van Brandt lifted his eyes from his book to study the teen for a moment, but then returned to his text without interjecting. Jonny took it as a sign that he could continue his conversation with the bodyguard.

"What kind of tats you got?" Jonny nodded a bit at the man's upper body.

The merc brushed his left sleeve up with a grin, showing off his body art. His right arm was covered from just above the elbow all the way up, the images disappearing under the rest of his shirt. Jonny whistled at the detail of the artwork. Ghostly images were permanently etched into the man's skin; specters and horned demons floated hauntingly in the foreground of an intricately drawn mansion on a desolate, barren hill. A small graveyard marked the halfway point up the knoll and a single red cardinal on the otherwise bleak landscape sat atop a cracked grave marker. The black and white design, with only the blood red bird portrayed an image of desolation, evil, and despair, with the bird representing life and hope. Jonny thought it was amazing and he didn't hesitate to tell the man just that.

"Whoever did that ink did an amazing job, man." Jonny looked up at the young man's eyes with approval.

"Thanks. It was actually a buddy of mine that did it after I got back from overseas." The bodyguard offered while pushing his sleeve back down. "Guy I grew up with, always drawing and painting and found a way to make some decent cash doing what he enjoys."

"You got anymore?" Jonny wondered.

"Yeah." Lifting his other sleeve, Jonny saw tattoos that represented military style themes; crossed rifles, an eagle, paratroopers, an old style gas mask and more; all interwoven into a design that represented the young man's sense of patriotic pride. "As you can see, I did some time in the military."

"I see." Jonny nodded, picking up on the man's lack of explanation as to what he did in the service, why he got out, or if he was honorably discharged or not. It also seemed odd that he'd go from military service to cop killer, but Jonny had heard of stranger things happening.

"I got more, but I ain't puttin' on a strip show for you." The merc remarked with a grin.

Jonny laughed and held up his hands. "Fine by me."

"What you got?" The man jerked his head and Jonny's arm. "I can see something poking out there."

With a smile, Jonny raised his sleeve to show off the scorpion tattoo. "It's nothing much, but it's a start. My first one. It's similar to one my friend had."

"Good work," The merc nodded. "I can tell the artist put some detail into the segments."

"Yeah, those hurt like a bitch." Jonny remarked with a slight frown, remembering the session.

Jonny felt Van Brandt's eyes on him again and a quick glance showed the Brit had lowered his book and was once again watching the exchange. But again, he said nothing, instead giving Jonny a little shrug.

Pushing his other sleeve up, Jonny displayed the marking of The Consortium that he'd received before leaving for the Horn of Africa. The merc's eyes narrowed as he took in the piece. Jonny watched as the big man rubbed his thumb and index finger along the stubble on his chin. "Interesting design. What is it?"

"Nothing really," Jonny replied with a shrug, catching Van Brandt's approving nod. "Just a weird design I must have seen somewhere that always stuck in my head."

"That happens." The merc remarked, straightening his back and looking out across the mess hall. "I'm sure one day it'll come back to you."

"Yeah." Jonny agreed, catching on to the man's change in stature. Following the merc's gaze, Jonny's eyes settled on the group of men that had just entered the mess hall. From the disgusted huff he heard off to his side, Jonny assumed Van Brandt saw the men as well.

The lone survivor of the shower room attack had just entered the room, along with three other men. All of the men in the group wore grease stained overalls and thick, steel-toed boots. The man from the shower caught the trio watching his group and sneered a little before making a wide arc away from them and towards the chow line.

Jonny smirked, remembering how the Cajun had kicked the man in ass, sending him crawling away on his hands and knees like the coward he was. And the kick in the ass wasn't the only injuries the man had departed with. Van Brandt's attack had left more visible marks on the engine room worker. Both of the man's eyes were blackened and he had a large cut across his nose; both injuries sustained by Van Brandt's vicious elbow strike. A large, dark purplish bruise covered a good portion of the man's jawline, a result of Van Brandt's roundhouse kick to the man's face.

"Fucking wanker." Van Brandt mumbled.

Jonny gave the Brit a look. He'd never heard the man use British slang. It made Jonny once again wonder about the validity of Van Brandt's aristocratic claims.

The tension that filled the mess hall felt like it could be cut with a knife. The men, while keeping their distance, stared down the trio with looks of contempt and hate.

The young mercenary took a step in front of Jonny, partially blocking him and Van Brandt from the wounded man's stare. Jonny heard the bodyguard grunt and watched the muscles in the man's back, neck, and arms tighten as he tucked the butt of his rifle into his shoulder. Jonny knew a show of force when he saw one.

"You forget what you were told?" The mercenary growled at the men.

"We don't want no trouble, merc." The attacker replied, finally pulling his eyes from Jonny and raising his hands to show the bodyguard he was unarmed and didn't want a confrontation.

"Best be on your way then." Jonny's protector shot back.

"Watch your back, kid." One the other men spat at Jonny.

The mercenary took another step forward. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothin', man." The first man answered, giving his friend a sour look. "Don't listen to this guy, he's not right in the head at times."

"Well, get movin' before I readjust his head for him."

Jonny smiled when the bruised up man visibly gulped, obviously remembering the scene were his friend had his skull caved in by the Cajun. Jonny figured the goon knew the younger man had the ability to do the same or worse.

"Like I said, we don't want no trouble. Just want to get something to eat on our break."

"Hurry up then." The young man snapped, growing visibly annoyed with the back and forth exchange of words.

The man nodded then jerked his head at his friends. The group started moving again to the food line.

Jonny let out a long, annoyed sigh. Turning to look at his companion once the men had moved off, Jonny opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the wail of the overhead klaxon.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Van Brandt winced and shouted over the noise.

Looking around the mess hall, Jonny observed the small groups of men and their reactions. The shower rapist and his buddies groaned, abandoning their trays and heading for the door. Another group of men who had been quietly sitting at a table in the far corner didn't move. The old, salty veterans obviously knew what the alarm meant and were not fazed by it in the least.

"Let me find out." The merc keyed the mike on his vest to call his partner.

Jonny couldn't hear the Cajun's reply due to the ear piece that younger mercenary wore. However, from his body language, Jonny assumed they had made contact.

After a few back and forth exchanges, Jonny heard the bodyguard reply with "Got it." before turning to look at his charges.

"My boss says we've passed through the Straits of Gibraltar and we're being boarded."

"Boarded?" Van Brandt exclaimed, pushing himself up from the table with the palms of his hands, his book set down and closed before him.

The merc nodded, "Yes, by U.S. Naval Forces apparently. Come on, he wants me to take you back to your quarters and we'll wait it out down there."

"What jurisdiction does the U.S. Navy have in these waters?" Van Brandt questioned. Jonny had to agree, it didn't make sense.

"I don't know," The merc answered. "They operate by their own rules half the time because they know they can get away with it."

"Fine." Van Brandt replied. "Come, Jonathan."

Jonny was on his feet and moving with the two men. Pushing through the door, the mercenary ensured the passageway on the far side was clear before looking back over his shoulder to report, "All clear. Follow me and be quick about it."

"Right behind you." Jonny replied and shuffled out the door with Van Brandt right on his heels.

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Arms crossed over his chest, Phil studied the data projected onto the view screen of the conference room. He was no scientist and math had never been his forte, so the algebraic formulas and 3D rendering of the compound meant nothing to him. For all he knew he could be looking a computer generated image of the common cold.

 _This is why I employ smart people._ He mused inside his head.

"So as you can see," Hadji was explaining to the group, "this is the best solution we've been able to come up with given the data we've received from the U.N. and IRIS."

"Will it work?" Race asked.

Phil glanced at the man. Race was seated next to the Czech Commando team leader, a man named Kulhanek. Phil knew Race had worked with Kulhanek and his team on a personal mission in Prague where a madman had tried to hurt Jessie. Race obviously trusted the man, as did Alena and Martinek, and that was enough for Phil.

So for Corbin, the inclusion of Alena's Commandos was a welcome addition to the assault team.

Yet, Race still looked tired, but Corbin knew better than to order his friend back to bed at the moment. He also knew that Race and Benton had spoken earlier and while Phil didn't know the details of that conversation, he had an idea that Benton had spent a great deal of time apologizing to his friend and personal bodyguard.

Hadji's nod was strong and confident. "Yes. At least according to the computer simulations I've run. It may not be effective in saving the people that were already exposed to the mutated plague, but it should protect others prior to exposure."

"Can we create the necessary doses here?" Phil asked with a look to the teen.

Again, Hadji nodded. "Yes. I've already spoken with the laboratory personnel here at the hospital and we've already begun the process."

Phil asked his next question. "How long till we have enough to administer to the team?"

"No more than forty eight hours if we work through the night." Hadji answered.

"I can help." Altine offered. She wasn't a scientist either, but Phil knew she had the intelligence necessary to follow Hadji's instructions to the letter.

He nodded his agreement to his agent. "Good."

"Extra sets of hands are always valuable." Hadji smiled to the Hispanic woman. It was obvious he was grateful to her for volunteering.

"We need enough for every member of the assault team as well as two additional doses for my men on the boat." Phil instructed.

"Three additional doses." Benton added. "One for Jonny too."

Phil kicked himself for forgetting about Jonny. While it was safe to assume that The Consortium had an antidote in its possession already, Corbin couldn't operate solely on assumptions. However, another thought occurred to him. "Will there be any complications in administering both this vaccine and the formula you've been working on to counteract the brainwashing drugs, Doctor?"

"I cannot answer that from a scientific standpoint, Phil," Benton replied with a worried sigh, "However, we have to try. We cannot rescue Jonny from The Consortium just to have him succumb to possible exposure to this plague."

"Understood, Doctor." Phil nodded. Getting back to the vaccine, Phil counted off the numbers in his head. "We'll need thirteen vaccines total for the team. That includes my team, Alena's Commandos, and Jonny."

Benton shook his head. Phil groaned inwardly. He knew where Benton was going and he'd hoped to avoid it. "I'm coming too, Phil."

"Doctor, perhaps it would be best if," Phil started.

Benton's interruption was curt, but respectful. "No arguments, Phil. I need to be there when we rescue my son. I need to get him my formula as soon as possible and I need to be the one to give it to him."

Phil turned his eyes to Race. The white haired man sat silently by, allowing the exchange to happen. Phil knew that Race wouldn't argue against Benton's presence during the mission. Phil also knew Benton could hold his own, had done so numerous times in the past, but Corbin would still feel better if Doctor Quest stayed behind.

"And me." Hadji threw in.

Phil kept his features neutral, but he knew he was quickly being outnumbered. In a way it was only fair to the Quest men. If he was allowing Jessie to go as part of the team, then Jonny's father and brother should be there as well.

"We can readjust the assault plan accordingly," Race stated, finally giving Phil some assistance. "Hell, it might be beneficial to have a small contingent in reserve during the assault. Benton and Hadji's medical skills could be valuable if The Consortium puts up a fight, which we have to go in assuming it will."

It made sense. Uncrossing his arms, Phil placed his hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward. He didn't have the mental energy to argue at this point; he just wanted this to be over. "Agreed. Agent Altine can stay in reserve with you both if that is acceptable, Doctor."

Benton nodded back to the Director. Looking to Hadji, Phil amended his count. "Hadji, ensure we have enough vaccines to include yourself and your dad. Also one for Agent Reynolds who will come along now, but stay in reserve with your team."

"Of course." Hadji stated, amending his numbers on the notepad next to his laptop.

"Agent Reynolds can assist you, Karla and the medical staff with the vaccines." Phil told the boy.

"We should begin immediately then." Hadji nodded, powering down his laptop in order to take the device to the lab with him.

Once the trio departed, Phil looked across the table at those remaining. "Now, let's get to work on planning this assault. Once we know the location we can adjust the plan accordingly, but for now, I want everyone to know their assigned roles and responsibilities."

Race stood. "I'll get a fresh pot of coffee going."

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Dugger took the stairs leading to the deck two at a time, shouldering past a number of crew members heading down. Bursting through the doorway that opened on the deck, Dugger squinted against the brightness of the afternoon sun. The scent of salt water filled his nostrils, churning his stomach, but he pushed the nausea aside. He had to find his contact.

Moving with haste, he crossed the open portion of the slick deck and disappeared into the rows of containers. Back pressed against one of the metal boxes, Dugger's eyes rose towards the ship's bridge. He obviously couldn't see inside the windows clearly, but he assumed that the boarding party's leader had already made his way in that direction to distract the vessel's captain with a load of misinformation and bullshit.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Dugger pushed away from the container and moved deeper into the maze of colorful, rust covered containers. He had no idea what was inside all of them, but only one mattered to the Cajun. The one that held Temple's body.

Rounding one of the corners, Pete slowed his pace then stopped. Wrapping his knuckles against the nearest container, he waited. Not even five seconds passed before he heard the corresponding knock. Moving forward, he slowly inched toward the sound, coming face to face with three armed men. Decked out in military camouflage, vests, helmets, and face masks, the men kept their weapons at the ready, leveled at Dugger's chest.

It didn't bother him in the slightest. He knew their tactics. Until Dugger identified himself as their contact, they'd stand ready to fire if necessary. With his hands raised, palms facing the men, Dugger flashed the lead man a number of hand signals. When he was done, he saw the man's eyes relax through the holes of his mask and he lowered his weapon, nodding to the other two men to do the same.

"We don't have a lot of time," Dugger stated. The SEAL reached into a pouch on his vest, pulling out a hard plastic case and handing it to the I-1 agent. "Follow me."

Taking off at a jog, Dugger led the men to the container that contained Temple's body. Pete had run through all the options in his head and determined this was the best course of action. Trying to get a tracking device on Jonny would be difficult and if Dugger was discovered it could blow his and Velk's cover. But if they planted the device on Temple's corpse, they could track the movements of Jonny and Van Brandt just as easily. The two targets had gone to great lengths to ensure Temple's body traveled with them, so Dugger had concluded they planned to take the dead man all the way back to The Consortium's hideout.

Reaching the container in question, the SEAL leader motioned for his two comrades to stand guard while he and Dugger bent down and picked the locks. Within minutes both locks were opened and the two men pulled the handles of the door open.

A cold rush wafted from the refrigerated container. Dugger was thankful that not only was the refrigeration unit still operational, but that Temple's corpse had been on ice for so long that the stench that accompanied dead bodies had dissipated to nothing more than an mild irritant.

Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket and clicking it on, Dugger stepped inside the container. There were no lights inside but between his flashlight and the outside sun that filtered inside, he could see just fine. The SEAL leader clicked on an extra light too.

The inside of the container was as bleak and desolate as the rest of the ship. Similar to other cold storage compartments, the interior walls and floor were caked with frost, causing Dugger to step carefully towards the metal slab that held the dead man's body.

Stretched out on the steel table was the corpse of Greg Temple. Dugger shook his head as his flashlight scanned the body of a man that Pete had once called a friend. Naked, but covered around the waist with a frost encrusted blanket, Temple's massive form had not lost any of its intimidation even in death. He wasn't as muscular as Dugger, but Temple had been a big man and the illness that had been slowly killing him had never caused any physical degradation of his body, only his mind.

With a frown, Dugger's eyes fell on the wound that had killed Temple; the gash in his throat caused by Race Bannon's knife. Jagged and torn, it was a ghastly wound and Temple had bled out almost immediately from it.

"You poor bastard, Greg." Dugger grumbled. "Why did you do it?"

"Sir?" The SEAL spoke.

"Sorry," Dugger blinked, shaking his head. "Let's get this over with."

Clutching the flashlight between his teeth to free up both his hands, Dugger opened the case the SEAL had handed over. Popping it open, Pete snagged the small tracking device out of the protective foam and switched it on with a flick of his thumb. The device was small, no larger than a pushpin which made it easy to conceal. Setting the tracker down on the slab, Dugger retrieved the small data pad from the case and turned it on as well, verifying that it was picking up the signal from the device. Dugger knew the technology was state of the art and the battery would constantly recharge itself. It also had a range of fifty kilometers, allowing Pete and Velk to follow at an ample and safe distance if they separated from Van Brandt and Jonny.

"Where do you plan to place it?" The SEAL asked once Dugger set the data pad down and picked the pin back up.

"You might want to look away," Dugger growled between the flashlight in his teeth, then stuck his fingers deep into Temple's wound.

He heard the SEAL gag. He was doing his best not to do the exact same thing. The frozen condition of Temple's corpse made Pete's job more difficult, but he had to ensure the device remained undetected and apart from putting it in another part of Temple's body that he had no desire to probe, this was the best spot for it. He'd debated putting it in Temple's ear or even down his mouth, but neither of those places would allow Pete to latch the device on firmly.

Even in the cold of the container, Dugger was beginning to sweat. _'They don't pay me enough for this shit.'_ He said inside his head as his fingers pushed deeper into the wound, spreading it wide.

With this other hand, he lodged the tracking device deep inside Temple, securing it in place. Once complete, he pulled his hands free, picked up the device and stepped back. With a quick glance, he verified the tracking device was still readable on the display. Placing it back in its spot in the case, Dugger closed the plastic box and tucked it away into his own tactical vest and grabbed his flashlight in his hand once again.

He gave his old friend's corpse one last look. With another shake of his head, he looked at the SEAL and frowned, "Come on. We're done here."

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As the team members filtered out of the conference room, Race hung back and locked gazes with Jade, indicating to her that he wanted to talk. He'd already told Estella he'd meet her and Jessie in the hotel room, but he needed a few minutes to deal with some unfinished business. The look Estella had given him told Race that his ex-wife was as uncomfortable with Jade's presence as everyone else seemed to be, but Race had given her a reassuring peck on the cheek to remind Estella that things would all work out in the end.

Race waited a few moments after Agent Roberts pulled the door shut behind him before moving to sit next to Jade. His gut was twisting and not from his physical wounds. He knew what Jade had done in regards to the formula she sold years ago and that angered him. Yet, he also knew that since that time Jade had become more than just his on again, off again lover; she had become a trusted ally. Someone he could call upon for help whenever he needed it and he'd done just that on numerous occasions over the years. And not once had she ever let him down. So while he was angry, and rightfully so, he couldn't bring himself to dismiss Jade from his life. She meant too much to him.

"Race, I," Jade started, but Race grabbed her hand gently, stroking his thumb along the back of it.

Race was unsure how to start, so he just opened his mouth and let the words exit. "Jade, there's no point in rehashing what is already known."

"I had no idea! Honestly, Race." Jade pleaded, her lip quivering.

Race winced. In all the years he'd known Jade, he'd never seen her so distraught. Jade was one of those people that always kept her cool, no matter what, so seeing her in such a state told Race that she was seriously hurting.

"Jade, what's done is done. We can't change that. All we can do now is make things right." Race hoped he sounded reassuring.

"I know." She nodded a little. He felt her grip tighten on his hand. "What's going to happen when this is all over?"

Race knew what she was asking, but he didn't have an answer. "Honestly, I don't know."

"Phil would love to lock me up and throw away the key." Jade huffed. "Even after I helped him with that stone incident."

Race blinked. He didn't know that Jade had helped Phil in the past in regards to Yuri Delic's stone. It didn't matter. "Jade, you shouldn't worry about that right now. Everyone is focused on Jonny. That's where you need to focus too."

"I've always had a soft spot for that kid." Jade smiled a bit. "I want to get him back safe and sound too."

"I know you do," Race smiled at her. "And I'm sure Benton and Hadji do too. Hell, I'm sure Phil even knows that's how you feel. Don't worry about Corbin or I-1. When this is all over and Jonny is back with us, I'll talk to Phil for you."

Jade rolled her shoulders and exhaled. "Thank you, Race."

He shot her one of his grins that always melted her. When she relaxed, he knew it had worked. Leaning forward he kissed her tenderly on the lips. Just for reassurance. When he pulled back, he saw the old Jade slowly returning. "Of course. But I do suggest you give Corbin and his agents their space. Let them do their jobs. Stick with me and everything will be fine. You'll see."

"You don't have to tell me that more than once." Jade smiled. Her laugh had a hint of relief in it and that made Race feel better.

"I need to get back to Estella and Jess," Race stood, pulling Jade to her feet along with him. "Get some rest and we'll talk more later, okay?"

"Okay." Jade nodded as Race let her towards the door.

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"Hey, Phil, wait up."

Phil halted mid stride. He was headed back to his hotel room to clean up with a shower and fresh clothes. Then he planned to get a bite to eat and some rest. But the sound of his goddaughter's call caused him to pause. Closing his eyes, he sighed, but waited for the teen to catch up to him.

"Shouldn't you be with your mom and dad?" He asked when she was close enough to hear him at a normal levels.

"My dad is finishing up with Jade." Jessie rolled her eyes. "Mom already headed back to the hotel room to order some food."

"Your dad probably won't be very long. He's trying his best to act like he's fine, but I can see he's worn out from his injuries." Phil curled the edge of his mouth up as he narrowed his eyes back at the conference room door. "I have half a mind to restrict him to his room, but that would just mean I'd have to leave a guard." Looking back at the redhead, Phil grinned, "and we both know it's pretty much impossible to guard a Bannon."

Jessie laughed. Phil could tell the girl needed it.

"Pain in my ass Bannon family." Phil grumbled which generated another burst of laughter from Jessie. "Anyways, what's up, Jess?"

Quieting down, Phil watched Jessie wipe at her eyes, then glance around the hallway, ensuring they were still alone. He waited patiently as she looked up at him and asked, "Did you tell my dad what I said to you back at the CIA facility? About Jonny?"

Phil shook his head, "No. I haven't said anything to him. There just really hasn't been any time."

"But you plan to, don't you?"

"Jessie, if you're asking me to not tell your dad, the man that I assigned to guard Jonny Quest with his life, what his daughter said...you know I can't do that."

"I wasn't thinking clearly," Jessie countered. "I was speaking based off of emotion. Something I should have never done."

Phil studied the teen. To his surprise, she held his gaze as he scrutinized her body language, but he had to remind himself that she was Race Bannon's daughter and she knew how to disguise her true intentions when necessary. Hell, Phil had helped her fine tune those skills back in Ohio.

"Are you saying that if you see Jonny and you don't like what you see in his eyes that you won't act out and try to make him pay for what he did to your dad?" Phil asked directly.

"That's what I'm saying." Jessie nodded.

"Are you telling me this because you mean it or because you don't want me to say something to your old man that would give him a reason to pull you from the rest of this mission?"

"I'm not staying behind." Jessie set her jaw and Phil had his answer.

Shaking his head, Phil sighed. "I'm sorry, Jessie,"

"What about Ezekiel Rage? Or Argus Grimm? Whatever you call him."

Phil blinked. The question was not what he was expecting. "What are you talking about?"

"Can you stand here, Corbin, and tell me that if you see him that you won't want to exact a little vengeance for what he did to your team in Afghanistan?"

Lowering his voice, Phil leered at the defiant teen, "First off, I have no proof that Grimm did betray our team all those years ago."

"But your gut tells you otherwise and men like you and my dad rely on your gut."

"Second," Phil continued, not rising to Jessie's bait, "I took an oath to defend the United States of America; her laws and her Constitution. I am bound by my oath and my loyalty to the law. I cannot allow my personal feelings to get in the way of administering justice based on the law."

"So you're saying no matter how you feel," Jessie started.

"What I'm saying, Jessica Bannon," Phil cut her off, "is that I have a duty and an obligation. Right now my duty is to see Jonny returned save and sound to his father...alive. As for Grimm and any other member of The Consortium; my agents have orders to arrest them, however if they use deadly force against us, then I'll return that force in kind. And yes...against Argus Grimm if he leaves me no choice."

"You've bent the rules before." Jessie countered.

"Not to the extent that I would turn my back to murder, Jessie." Phil replied.

"It's not murder."

"Then what is it?" Phil demanded. "Stop and think about what you're saying, Jess. Everything you've been through up to this point has been to rescue Jonny. To save Jonny. Would you really throw all of that away to dish out your own brand of justice for what he did to your father? Your father that has already accepted that Jonny's actions were due to Temple's brainwashing? If Race has accepted it, why can't you?"

"I…I don't know," Jessie looked away from his intense stare.

He softened his tone with his goddaughter then. Kneeling down, he placed a hand on her shoulder, brushing her hair aside, forcing her to look back at him. "Jessie, back in Nuremburg you saved my life. And when we got to Prague, Alena reminded me of what this is all about."

"What do you mean?" Her voice was low, but she kept looking in his eyes.

"It's about love, Jessie." Phil replied with a kind smile. "It's about fighting to save the ones we love. And you love Jonny. I know you do. Everyone here knows you do. So don't you forget that. Don't go down a road that you'll regret. Don't allow your anger to become hate. Remind yourself that you love Jonny and when you see him, that he needs your love and support. We can bring him back on the outside, Jess. Only you can bring him back on the inside. Okay?"

Jessie bit her lip, but she nodded. "Okay."

Phil wasn't entirely convinced. He'd have to continue to watch over her. "Jessie, how about this. What you said to me, I'll keep that between us for now, okay? But if I see you going down that road, I'll stop you. I'll stop you however I can."

Jessie nodded again. Phil stood back up. "Let's head back to the hotel. If your dad walks out and sees us talking he'll want to know what's going on and I'd have to tell him."

"Thanks, Phil," Jessie replied, the words shaky, "Love. It's about love."

"That's right, kiddo." Phil said as they started to head towards the exit once again.

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 **To be Continued…**


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

 **Author's Notes: To everyone that has stuck with this story to this point. Thank You! This is the longest story I have written (and it's not over yet) and has grown so much from when I first outlined this and the prequel.**

 **Thank you to those that have reviewed, favored, or just read and continue to read. I greatly appreciate the support. I really do. Its great to see some life in the TRAJQ fandom and that there are still fans out there interested in the stories. Thanks to Goddess Evie, tj12398, ForeverWells, Geist1321, etc for submitting awesome fics for everyone's enjoyment! It is so much fun! Truly!**

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"Is something wrong, my dear daughter?"

Anaya strained beneath the covers at the sound of her father's voice. She hadn't even heard him enter her room.

Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands and tried to smile as he came over and sat on the edge of her bed. "I have not been feeling well these last few days. That's all, father."

"Your sister mentioned something about that to me." Zin stroked his chin then placed a hand on the comforter over Anaya's knee. "We are worried, dear one. It seems that ever since Mister Temple and the boy left, you have not been yourself. Are you sure everything is alright?"

"I'll be fine, father. Just a stomach bug." Anaya hoped she was convincing.

"I will have a doctor come check on you."

"That's not necessary,-" Anaya started.

"Nonsense," Zin dismissed her protest with a wave of a hand. "The father in me cannot stand to see my daughter ill."

"Father, really," Anaya pleaded, but lowered her voice. If a doctor came to examine her, he could very well discover that she was pregnant. And then her father would definitely know the truth. And that would not do. "I can go to the infirmary and gets some medication on my own."

"No," Zin replied with a sternness that caused Anaya to cease her objections. "I will send a doctor to see you."

"Yes, father." Anaya replied.

Zin's smile returned as he stood. Gently, he placed his hands on Anaya's shoulder, pushing her back down into the bed. "Rest, my child. All will be well soon enough. You shall see. Trust your father, Anaya." He planted a soft kiss on her forehead. Anaya smiled in return.

"Yes, father. I will." Anaya nodded a little.

Zin departed, quietly shutting the door behind him. Anaya counted in her head, forcing herself to wait until she was certain that her father would not reappear suddenly. When she was convinced, she retrieved her phone from the nightstand.

Typing away she sent a message to Van Brandt. _You have to hurry. Things are getting worse here._

Even though the response was almost immediate, it felt like forever before it popped up on her display. _What's happened?_

 _My father is suspicious. I can't hide this much longer. You have to help me._ She hit send.

 _We are still at least a week away from port. Can you hold out until then?_ The response stated.

 _I'm scared. Please._ Anaya replied.

 _I'll see what I can do to arrange for a port stop. We were boarded and I can use that as a reason for needing to disembark. Stay positive, Anaya. This will be over soon._ Van Brandt shot back.

 _I'll try._ She typed.

 _I'll contact you when we are back on land._ He texted back.

Anaya nodded to herself. _Okay._

As soon as the conversation was over, Anaya deleted the string of messages. She didn't think her father or sister were monitoring her, but she knew it was better to be safe than sorry. Sliding the phone under the pillow, Anaya settled back into the bed, her hand traveling to her stomach. She knew it was her imagination, but she imagined she was getting bigger; starting to show.

Rubbing her belly, Anaya forced herself to relax. As her eyes grew heavy, she told herself in her mind, _I'll do anything to protect our child, Greg. Anything. Our child is all that matters anymore. My only family now._

Eventually, Anaya drifted off to sleep.

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"Mister Van Brandt, what brings you to my bridge?" The ship's captain asked the moment Van Brandt made his presence known. Standing off his left, Jonny lingered clutching a small gym bag in his grip, with the big Cajun bodyguard directly behind them.

"I need to speak with you, Captain. In private." Van Brandt said as he took a step forward, ignoring the looks he received from the bridge crew and First Officer.

"This could not have waited till dinner?" The Captain asked. "You are always welcome to join me there."

Van Brandt scowled. The Captain's attempt to placate him with generosity was total crap and both men knew it. All this man cared about was money.

"Why were we boarded?" Van Brandt questioned, ignoring the Captain's dinner invitation.

The bearded man shrugged, "Those U.S. Naval personnel think they own all the waters on our beautiful planet. They said they were looking for illegal cargo."

"Did they search the ship?"

"No, I sent them packing with a reminder that they had no jurisdiction in these waters and their boarding violated maritime law. They left when I threatened to file a formal complaint with the United Nations Maritime Services Branch."

Van Brandt smirked. This Captain might be crooked a hell, but he knew the laws and more importantly, knew how to show others that he was well aware of what could and could not be done while underway. "Sounds like you did a fine job, Captain."

"Did you come to my bridge to compliment my diplomatic skills, Mister Van Brandt?"

"No," the Englishman smiled. "Again, I'd prefer we speak in private." He patted his hand on his pants pocket. The Captain got the message.

Looking at his First Officer, the Captain stated, "You have the bridge."

"Yes, Sir." The grizzled First Officer replied. Van Brandt saw the scowl beneath the other man's beard.

Gesturing towards the door, The Captain exited and Van Brandt and his group followed. The ship's officer led them to his state room and stepping inside, Van Brandt couldn't help but smile in appreciation of the man's seaworthy décor. The room sported wood paneled walls and a polish wooden table directly in the center with four leather chairs stowed beneath the rim. Photographs, a fishing net, and a large stuffed fish adorned the walls. Van Brandt had no idea what type of fish it was; he wasn't a fisherman after all.

When the Captain gestured for him to take a seat, Van Brandt remained standing and said, "We need to make an unscheduled stop."

Blinking the Captain frowned. "Why?"

"Because we need to disembark. Our container too."

The Captain shook his head, "That is not as easy as you may think, Mister Van Brandt."

"We're approaching the port of Sines, Portugal, yes? Let us off there."

"Again, it is not that easy. Making an unscheduled stop at a large port is time consuming and costly."

"How much?" Van Brandt scoffed.

"Mister Van Brandt, I have deadlines to meet in order to deliver all my cargo. Not just yours. Any delays could greatly affect my schedule and my pay tables."

"Again, how much?" Van Brandt questioned.

"To make it worth my while," The Captain smiled, "Fifty Thousand Euro."

"You're out of your bloody mind, Captain." Van Brandt laughed.

The Captain shrugged. "Then we do not make a port call."

"I'll pay you twenty thousand. Not a penny more."

"Your mercenary killed two of my crew," The Captain reminded Van Brandt with a nod to the Cajun. "By all rights, he should be in my brig."

"Your crew members were rapists." The Cajun growled.

Van Brandt shot the man a look to silence him.

"I do not fault men for their desires or if they prefer men over women," The Captain replied, "These men are hard workers, operating under harsh and dangerous conditions. Sometimes they need a little relief. And your man killed Ivar. My Master Engineer. Men like him are not easy to replace. Nor do they come cheap."

Van Brandt heard Jonny groan at the Captain's justification. Van Brandt waved a hand at the teen. They were getting off topic. Turning back to the Captain, Van Brandt offered, "Thirty thousand….for your troubles. Perhaps in port you can find two men to replace the ones you lost. And if the rest of your crew are in need of…relief…perhaps a short port call could be valuable to their morale…and yours."

The Captain's eyes flashed, indicating he was considering Van Brandt's new counter. "Very well, Mister Van Brandt. I accept your offer. I'll make coordination with the port authorities immediately and redirect our route to the port of Sines."

Van Brandt grinned, "Thank you, Captain."

The Captain cleared his throat as Van Brandt turned to leave. "Payment up front, Mister Van Brandt."

Shaking his head, Van Brandt turned back and smiled. He hated having to deal with these types of men, but luckily he'd had the wherewithal to bring enough cash with him when he'd fled Mogadishu. Jonny's quick thinking when he'd taken the warlord's money also helped build up Van Brandt's stash of currency.

With a nod to Jonny, Van Brandt stepped to the side so the teen could place the gym bag he carried on the table. Opening it, Van Brandt withdrew the correct amount and placed it on the table. He didn't like flashing such large sums of cash in front of the Captain or the Cajun, but in this case, he didn't have a choice.

The Captain picked up the stack of bills, thumbed through them then nodded. "A pleasure doing business with you, Mister Van Brandt. If I do not see you before you disembark my vessel, I will wish you fair winds and safe travels."

"Likewise, Captain." Van Brandt's smile was fake, but it was convincing.

As they departed he told himself to check with Rage when they arrived at the castle to determine if they'd have the ability to send this vessel to the bottom of the ocean. It would bring David Van Brandt an immense amount of pleasure.

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Dugger eyed the workers with care as they secured the container to the truck's flatbed. The port was loud and the heavy machinery being operated throughout the area drowned out most of the additional noises in the immediate vicinity, something Dugger didn't like. With a loud clank the container dropped into place. Three men stepped forward to finish securing the box.

Turning his head, he saw Van Brandt speaking with the men's supervisor, or at least that's who Dugger assumed the man was. He watched Van Brandt subtly slip some Euros into the man's hand as payment for the hasty use of the port's equipment.

Taking a step towards the duo, Dugger met Velk's eyes and with a nod of his head indicated to his partner to stay where he was. Velk nodded and took a step backwards, remaining a number of paces to the right of the rear of the truck. Dugger knew Velk would memorize the vehicle's plate number and country of origin.

"What now?" Dugger grumbled to the Englishman as the dock supervisor left.

Van Brandt turned and gave the Cajun a once over. From the corner of his eye, Dugger saw that Jonny was already in the cab of the truck.

"I no longer require the services of you and your comrade." Van Brandt spoke. His voice was smooth, but Dugger immediately picked up on the sinister edge with which Van Brandt spoke. Dugger tensed and tightened his hold on his rifle.

"Then you owe us the rest of our money." Dugger spat, keeping his eyes locked on Van Brandt's.

"Of course." The man smiled as he removed his sunglasses from where he'd hung them in the collar of his polo shirt and placed them on his face. Turning towards the open door of the truck's cab, Van Brandt spoke over his shoulder, "I will say that you and your man performed admirably during your employment."

"I don't need accolades, I just need the rest of the money you owe us." Dugger replied sternly.

"As you wish." Van Brandt mumbled.

The Englishman's back was to Pete, but the Cajun heard him unzipping the gym bag he'd set on the floor of the truck's interior. Dugger's gaze momentarily met Jonny's, catching a signal the teen relayed with his eyes.

Dugger stepped back.

Van Brandt spun, bringing a tan semi-automatic FNX 9mm to bear straight at Dugger's chest and fired.

Dugger felt the round slam into his vest. While not an overly powerful cartridge, the short distance between the two men and the hollow point design of the bullet made it feel like he'd just been hit with a sledgehammer. The force of the shot sent Dugger to the ground with a grunt. He'd definitely have a bruise from that one.

Dugger attempted to get his rifle up to fire back when the port erupted into a full blown gunfight.

Cursing under his breath, he exhaled with a wince and tried to get out of the line of bullets as unseen gunmen took beads on him. The truck door slammed, much to Dugger's dismay and he heard the engine roar to life.

"Fucking hell." He grumbled. Unable to risk firing at Van Brandt in the cab for fear of hitting Jonny, Dugger quickly turned his attention to the unfolding battle.

Rolling onto his stomach, Dugger pumped his legs, propelling himself back to his feet. Turning and raising his rifle at the same time, he identified at least a half a dozen gunmen converging on his position.

Pete opened fire. Rounds bursts from the barrel of his rifle, sending the targets diving for cover. One of the men collapsed under Dugger's onslaught, his AK-47 skittering out of his hands as his head bounced off the concrete.

Dugger could hear Velk firing from wherever the other man had taken cover. Needing to get out of the open, Dugger turned and sprinted. As he did, he saw Velk propped up and firing over a pallet that was stacked with wooden crates. Legs pumping Dugger reached the location and dropped to his knees, slamming his back against the crates.

"How many?" He yelled to Velk. Snatching another magazine from his vest, Dugger quickly reloaded his rifle.

"At least six, maybe more." Velk answered while continuing to fire.

The truck was pulling away.

"Fuck." Velk growled as Pete popped up to engage.

Velk was already moving.

"Let it go." Dugger yelled as his partner took a few steps away from their cover. The tracking device hidden in Temple's body would tell them where Van Brandt was headed. The present situation needed to be resolved first before Dugger could get back to tailing Jonny. The gunmen had recovered and were moving forward, firing as they moved, providing cover for the fleeing vehicle.

Dugger's order caused Velk to hesitate. Pausing midstride, he jerked to get back behind the crates when a round tore through his forearm.

"Fuck. I'm hit." Velk spat, falling backwards to land hard on his rear end.

Dugger sneered, "Young and dumb you are, boy."

"Fuck you, gumbo." Velk laughed between gritted teeth. Clutching his wound carefully with his other hand, Velk was pressing hard to stop the bleeding. "It went straight through."

"Can you keep firing?" Dugger asked, ducking back down to reload.

"Yeah. I'm not dead."

"Then get off your ass and waste these assholes." Dugger grinned. "I'm sick of getting shot at!"

"Bullshit. You love it and you know it." Velk replied then reloaded and started firing again.

The gunmen must have seen Velk go down and were closing in on them. _Big mistake._ Dugger grinned to himself.

"I'm moving up." Dugger nodded towards his partner.

"Go." Velk answered and fired, pinning down the approaching men.

Dugger slinked around the other side of the crates as Velk provided covering fire for him.

Flanking, Pete kept low to avoid detection. Two rows of pallets closer, Dugger turned and saw two gunmen crouched down to reload. He didn't let them. The men shouted and Dugger unloaded into their position, pelting both men with a hail of high powered rounds.

Stepping past the dead men, his head and rifle swiveled as one, searching for more enemy. Another popped up from across the way and Dugger fired, hitting the man in the chest and sending him flat on his back.

A quick glance back told Dugger that Velk was still in the same position, firing at a few men that emerged after the truck departed. One of the men must have seen Dugger and he turned his rifle towards the Cajun, forcing Dugger back down.

In the distance he heard sirens approaching. _We've got to get out of here._

Another burst of fire directed at Velk pulled Pete back into the battle. Looking back, he saw Velk in the process of crouching down as bullets tore into the crates all around him. To Dugger's horror, he watched as rounds whizzed near his friend when suddenly Velk's head jerked back. The impact caused the younger agent to drop his rifle and fall forward, his head bumping against the torn up wood. As his body slid down the pallet and out of sight, Dugger could see a thin smearing of blood on the crates.

"Fuckers!" Dugger shouted with an angered snarl. Bounding to his feet, Dugger rushed the position of the gunmen that had just shot his friend. With Dugger's rifle blasting, the men looked confused as the big Cajun ran straight for them. One took a round to the head and dropped. The other two exchanged terrified looks as Pete's bolt locked back.

In one fluid motion, Dugger tossed the empty weapon aside and pulled a kabar combat knife from his vest. Still rushing the men, he let out an earth shattering yell as he rammed into the closest man. Both Dugger and his target went down. Rolling off the winded and frightened man, Dugger brought the kabar down in a deadly arc, slamming the blade all the way to the hilt into the man's chest.

The remaining gunman had seen enough. Throwing his weapon down, he attempted to run, but Dugger snagged the man's ankle and jerked him off his feet. A sickening crunch echoed across the docks when the man's head hit the pallets on his way down. Dazed, he groaned and fell to his back. Reaching for a pistol in his waistband, the man shakily tried to pull the handgun and fire.

Dugger was on his feet by then. Pulling his own pistol from his leg holster, Pete took aim and fired on his opponent. Two rounds tore into the man's chest. Raising his aim, Dugger landed a third in the man's forehead.

The gunman had never even gotten his pistol out of his waistband.

Breathing heavily, Dugger snorted through his nostrils. "Fucking Consortium scum." He hollered and kicked one of the corpses.

It was then that he noticed there was no more gunfire, but the sounds of battle were quickly replaced by blaring sirens and screeching tires.

Holstering his weapon, Dugger turned and ran back towards Velk. He had no idea if the other man was alive or not.

Car doors opened and boots thudded against the ground.

"Alto!" One uniformed officer yelled.

From another. "Pare aí mesmo!"

Dugger froze midstride and raised his hands.

Uniformed police officers with weapons drawn, some pistols some compact sub-machine guns, were moving on him.

"Fuck." Pete growled and rolled his eyes.

"Ajoelhe-se. Mãos na cabeça!." The first officer shouted.

Pete didn't speak Portuguese, but he didn't need to. He could understand police orders when he heard them, no matter what language they were shouted in. Having guns pointed at him helped drive the point home too.

Dugger did as he was told. Three officers approached. One kept the barrel of an MP5 pointed at Dugger's chest while the second relieved him of his handgun and the third was pulling his arms down to smack handcuffs over his meaty wrists.

"I'm a United States Federal Intelligence Agent." Dugger hollered when the man behind him started searching him, pulling out rifle magazines from his pouches and tossing them to the ground. "I'm working undercover."

The men ignored him.

"Get me someone that can speak English, goddamnit!" Pete yelled. Trying to look over his shoulder towards Velk, Dugger was met with a hand to the back of the head and was forced to the ground. "The man behind that crate is also a U.S. agent. Help him. He's been shot." Dugger growled against the ground.

"Stop struggling." Someone ordered in broken English.

"Get the fuck off me! I'm a U.S. Federal Intelligence Agent. The truck that just left this port is my target. Get the fuck off me." Dugger was hot and he struggled beneath the hold of the officers that pinned him to the ground.

For his efforts, he was met with a knee to the back of his neck. But he continued to struggle. He heard footsteps approaching.

"Get him up." Another man, definitely Portuguese by the accent, but with almost perfect English, ordered to the officers.

Dugger was hauled to his feet. It took two of the men to get him up. They held him firmly by both arms and turned him to face the man that spoke.

Dugger didn't know the different symbols that annotated rank for the officers, but from the look of the man's uniform, Dugger assumed this man was in charge. "Look, I'm a U.S. Federal Intelligence Agent."

"You've said that already." The man replied.

"Goddamnit, let me go! I have to call my superior. This is an emergency."

"It is," The officer replied, "But perhaps our definitions of what constitutes an emergency differ."

"I don't have time for this political bullshit." Dugger grumbled. "Look inside my waistband."

"Excuse me?"

Dugger rolled his eyes and grumbled. " I'm wearing briefs. But, inside the front of my pants is a hidden compartment. My official credentials are in there. Same with my partner over there. Check them out. And would somebody please fucking help him?"

The officer studied Dugger for a moment, then nodded at one of his men that had come to stand next to him. Dugger exhaled when he saw the man wave at some paramedics and head over to Velk.

"Do not try anything funny, Senhor." The officer stated with an uncomfortable grumble.

"Likewise." Dugger smirked.

Opening the front of Dugger's pants, the man quickly found the hidden compartment next to Dugger's zipper. Opening it, he found some flattened out bills, both Euro and US dollars and Dugger's credentials. Opening the wallet, he studied the identification. As he did, the other officer jogged back over and handed over Velk's credentials.

"We're U.S. Agents working undercover. Our target ambushed us and fled in that truck." Dugger stated, trying to bring some calm back to his voice. "I need you to uncuff me so I can call my superior. He's in Germany right now. His name is Philip Corbin. He's the Director of Intelligence One."

The officer's eyes fluttered at that and he gave Dugger a curious look. "Intelligence One? I've heard of such an organization when I worked on a joint assignment with INTERPOL."

"Then you'll know that I'm telling you the truth. Did you hear about the biological attack in Mogadishu?"

The officer closed Dugger's wallet and nodded.

"The man that fled in that truck is responsible for that attack. We're tracking him and a teenager that he is holding hostage. You have to let me go."

The man jerked his head at his officers and Dugger felt the cuffs being removed.

"I still have to check this out." The officer waved the credential wallets in the air.

"Fine. Do what you have to do." Dugger responded with a snort while refastening his pants, already moving towards Velk and pulling his phone from his pocket at the same time.

When he saw the other man, Dugger closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Velk was alive. It appeared that the round that had dropped the younger man had grazed the side of his head, or it could have been caused by debris from the crate. It didn't really matter, all that matter was that Matt was okay. The paramedics were bandaging his arm and his head and Dugger crouched down to give Velk a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Good job, partner. You put up a hell of a fight."

Velk grumbled a slew of curses and gave the Cajun a thumbs up.

Standing, Dugger went back to the English speaking officer and placed his call to Corbin.

Each ring felt like an eternity, but Corbin answered after the third one. _"Corbin."_

"Sir, Its Dugger. We're at the port in Sines, Portugal. Ran into some trouble."

" _What's going on?"_

Dugger heard Phil switch him to speaker phone. "Van Brandt laid a trap for us. Ambushed us and got away. Matt was hit in the shootout, but he'll be alright. I did place the tracking device on Temple's body before we disembarked. Van Brandt took the container with him when he fled." Dugger cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could retrieve the data pad from his vest. Opening the case, he snatched the pad out and verified the device was working. "I'll transmit the uplink to you. The Portuguese authorities are here. They've confiscated our weapons and credentials."

Dugger heard Roberts respond through the phone. _"I'm on it."_ Dugger knew that Portuguese was one of the many languages Roberts spoke and he was grateful for the man's linguistic arsenal.

Corbin spoke next. _"Find out what you can at the scene while Terry gets you cleared. We'll call you back momentarily."_

"Roger." Dugger replied and hung up.

He went to check on Velk again and found his partner sitting up with his back against the shot up crates, still being attended by the local paramedics. Dugger also took note that the officers had taken Velk's weapons as well.

 _Fucking international bureaucratic bullshit._ It annoyed the big Cajun, but he knew that between Corbin and Roberts, he and Velk would be cleared in no time.

Moving between the responding personnel, Dugger made his way towards the dead gunmen. All were dressed in regular street clothes, not uniforms, and they had been armed with AK-47s and a variety of pistols. A quick pat down of the first two bodies turned up nothing, no identification, phones, money or documents. With a scowl, he turned to head towards the next group, but heard a pained groan from one of the men that Dugger had shot behind the crates.

Running over, he pushed two local officers aside to shoulder his way to the wounded gunman. Kneeling down, he could tell the man was succumbing to his wounds and was near death. Blood covered the gunman's shirt and neck and a frothy saliva mixed with blood was draining from his mouth into a small pool on the ground next to his head. The man's eyes were glassy and Dugger knew he didn't have much time.

Grabbing him by the shirt, Dugger jerked the man a little and he turned his eyes towards the Cajun.

"Who ordered you here? Where's your hideout?" Dugger questioned.

The man coughed and started mumbling in a foreign tongue. Dugger shook his head, it was too much to ask that the gunman spoke English.

"Where's Van Brandt headed?"

If they could get a location ahead of time, they could intercept Van Brandt, rescue Jonny, then move on to take out the Consortium's lair later.

The man shook his head and continued to mumble. Dugger didn't recognize the language, but it was rough and resembled what he believed to be eastern European.

"It's a long shot." Dugger said. Pulling out his phone he called Corbin back on speaker.

"Sir," Dugger said the moment the call was connected. "I've got a live one here, but can't make out what he's saying. Can you or Roberts?"

Dugger held the phone close to the man's lips as he continued to mumble.

" _It's definitely Slovak."_ Corbin replied almost immediately. _"But he's just mumbling nonsense."_

Dugger said a silent thank you for Phil's choice to learn such an odd language during training. Most agents chose languages they were at least somewhat familiar with, like Dugger with French and Velk with German. But Corbin had chosen Slovak and as a result had gotten some pretty sweet assignments over the years because of it.

 _I need to learn something like this one of these days._ Dugger joked to himself.

"That nonsense is probably because the lead I filled him with is killing him, boss." Dugger replied.

" _Hold the phone closer to his ear."_ Corbin ordered.

Dugger did and said, "Go ahead."

" _Pracujete pre The Consortium?"_ Phil asked.

"áno" The dying man replied.

" _Kde je? Kde je vaša základňa?"_ Phil asked next.

"Pevnosť" The answer.

" _Kde?"_

"Hill. Hora." The man choked.

Dugger heard Ms. Stasny speak. _"Hora means mountain in Czech."_

" _The languages are similar."_ Phil was saying. Then he asked again. _"Kde? Slovensko?"_

"áno. bomby. Výbušniny. Smrť."The man's responses were growing weaker.

" _Povedz mi kde!" Corbin shouted in the phone._

"nie. Smrť."

The gunman started to convulse in Dugger's grasp, spitting up blood and bile. Dugger turned his head in disgust and let go of the man's shirt as he stiffened for a moment before slackening. When the gunman collapsed to the ground, he was dead.

"He's gone." Dugger stated the obvious.

"Damnit." Phil grumbled.

"What did he say?" Dugger asked.

" _Fortress. Hill. Mountain. Bombs. Explosives. And Death. I asked him if it was in Slovakia and he said yes, but we can't rely solely on the words of a dying man."_ Phil replied. From his tone, Dugger knew the other man was processing the information.

"So nothing." Dugger replied with disappointment.

" _There's fortresses and castles all over Europe and plenty on hilltops and mountains."_ Phil replied. _"And I don't like that he said about bombs."_

"No shit."

Roberts spoke up next. _"Dug, you have your clearance. The officer on the ground has been ordered to return your credentials and weapons. You're free to go."_

"Thanks, Terry." Some good news at least.

" _I also told them to give you a vehicle."_ Roberts threw in.

" _Get moving, Dug. I want you and Velk on the road and following that truck. If what that gunman said has any truth to it, I imagine you're in for a long drive. Check in every hour and whenever you stop. We'll be on standby to deploy the moment you ping us with a final destination."_ Corbin stated with authority.

"Understood. I'll send the tracking uplink and take scans of this man's fingerprints and upload them as well. Maybe we'll get lucky and get a hit." Dugger stated.

" _Good thinking, Dug."_ Corbin approved. _"Your initial orders still stand. Only retrieve Jonny if you feel his life is in imminent danger. If circumstances change and we can pinpoint a location ahead of your arrival at the final destination, I'll contact you with changes to your orders and call for an immediate extraction."_

"Understood." Dugger nodded.

" _Watch out for that boy, Dug."_ Race jumped onto the call for the first time.

"Glad to hear that stubborn voice of yours, Bannon," Dugger laughed. "Don't worry, we've got this." Ending the call, he opened the special app for scanning, took images of the dead man's fingerprints and uploaded them immediately to the I-1 databanks. He then headed back towards the officer in charge to retrieve his and Velk's weapons and credentials. Glancing at his watch, he saw that over an hour had passed since the truck departed, but since it was loaded down with the connex it would be moving slower than most traffic, giving Pete and Matt a chance to catch up.

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As the truck rumbled down the road, Jonny stole a glance at Van Brandt behind the wheel. "Was all that really necessary?"

Van Brandt didn't take his eyes from the road as he answered. "I told you not to get attached to those men. They were expendable and were no longer needed."

"You didn't have to kill them."

This time Van Brandt turned his gaze slightly towards the teen. "They were killers. Why are you upset about killers dying? Live by the sword, die by the sword is the motto men like those two mercenaries cherish."

"They seemed like decent guys. We could have used them back at the castle. And besides, the Cajun did save me from being...raped."

"He did, but that is what I paid him to do. To protect you. He was doing his job. Do you think he would have come to your rescue if he hadn't been paid to do so?"

Jonny frowned, he hadn't thought about it from that angle. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I'd like to think he would have."

"Did you learn nothing from your time with Temple?" Van Brandt inquired. "Most men are not the honorable heroes you think they are, Jonny. They are vicious and sadistic and take pleasure in vices like booze, whores, drugs and money. Those men were no different."

"Are you?" Jonny asked.

"I never claimed I was anything other than what you see, kid." Van Brandt sneered.

"If that's the case then how can you trust anyone? Why did you trust Greg all those years ago? Why are you planning to help Anaya on Greg's behalf?"

"As I told you, Greg saved my life. I owe him. And just because I feel a sense of loyalty to Temple and The Consortium does not mean I do not have my own personal motivations for my actions. A man can be vicious, but also loyal. Greg was. And so am I. The question is, Jonny Quest, are you? Are you still loyal to The Consortium?"

Jonny picked up on Van Brandt's thinly veiled threat. Jonny's eyes wandered to Van Brandt's lap where he still had the handgun he'd used to shoot the Cajun sitting between his thighs. Jonny had no doubt that if he didn't give Van Brandt the answer he was looking for, the Brit would shoot him dead right here in the cab of the truck.

Setting his jaw, Jonny replied, "I am loyal to The Consortium. I have been all this time and I will continue to be. Remember, I did kill that back stabbing bastard Race Bannon."

"Yes," Van Brandt nodded and Jonny saw the Englishman's muscles relax. "You did. That means something for sure. However, let me ask another question, young Quest. Killing Bannon, a man that was like a father to you, is one thing. However, what would you do if The Consortium ordered you to kill your real father? Would you kill Doctor Benton Quest?"

Jonny inhaled sharply through his teeth. The thought of killing his own father tore at him more than he thought it would. He recalled the stories that Greg had told Jonny about his father and his involvement with the U.S. Government. He also remembered the stories about his mother. Was his father a part of the plot that killed his mom? Did he stand alongside Race and Doctor Zin and watch as Bannon squeezed the trigger? He couldn't remember. He couldn't be sure. But Greg had never lied to Jonny. Had gone to great lengths to protect and shield Jonny. Did his father do the same for him? Jonny couldn't be sure.

All the thoughts that rushed through his brain made his head hurt. Pressing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples, Jonny tried to ward of the approaching headache that crept into his skull.

"Well?" Van Brandt asked.

Opening his eyes, Jonny rummaged through the gym bag at his feet. Finding the bottle, Jonny popped the lid off and downed a couple of pills, hoping to eliminate the pain before it really started. With a huff he glanced at Van Brandt and answered, "Yes. Yes I would."

Jonny saw the edges of Van Brandt's lip curl into an evil smile as he watched the road before him. Closing his eyes again, Jonny grumbled, "I need to rest. My head is starting to pound."

"Get some sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us, but when we are done, we will be back at the castle. Then we will decide how best to get Anaya to safety ahead of the next phase of Doctor Zin's plan."

"Fine." Jonny leaned his head against the side of the door. Within minutes the rumbles and vibrations assisted him by bringing much needed sleep.

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Jessie looked towards her father and Corbin for guidance. Hadji, Altine, and Reynolds were busy making the plague vaccines in the hospital's lab. Benton had went to check on Hadji's progress about ten minutes ago, along with Estella. The Czech Commandos were outside training and Colonel Martinek had gone to check them out. That left her father, Corbin, Roberts, and Alena in the conference room.

"What now?" Jessie asked after Corbin hung up with Dugger in Portugal.

Roberts sat down at Jessie's workstation. Fingers gliding across the keyboard, Roberts brought up the I-1 fingerprint database. As he worked to retrieve the data Dugger sent, he spoke. "I'm still working on the translations from the cell phones calls from the ship. It might not matter at this point, but if we can't get a hit on this gunman's prints we can still possibly get something from these calls. But I can't do both at once, so can you help with the fingerprint search?"

Jessie nodded and Roberts stood once he pulled up the appropriate file for her. "I'll do my best."

"These searches don't go as fast as the movie's make it seem." Phil stated. He had been pulling up the data link information to display on the large wall mounted monitor. Jessie glanced at the monitor and saw a map of Europe and a little flashing dot indicating the position of the tracking device. Indicating the position of Jonny.

Jessie turned her attention back to her laptop. "I'll start by running the prints through our U.S. databases as well as INTERPOL and any Slovakia government databanks. If he served in the military or did time in prison, we'll find him."

Jessie heard a grunted laugh and turned her head to look at her father and Phil. The two men were exchanging smirks.

"What?" Jessie huffed.

"I don't know if this is your influence or Hadji's and Benton's" Phil told Race.

"Hey, she inherited her smarts from her old man." Race jerked a thumb backwards at himself.

"I think she got more than her red hair from her mother." Phil laughed.

"Hey, I'm right here, guys." Jessie quipped.

Roberts laughed.

"Leave Jessica alone." Alena ordered coming over to the two men. "Technically she is doing more than you two at the present moment."

Race opened his mouth to protest, but laughed instead. Looking at Phil, he mumbled under his breath to his friend, "Your woman."

Phil shrugged and raised his hands, backing off.

"I heard that," Alena scolded, but with a grin. Looking at Phil she added, "and I saw that. Do not forget that I was the President of the Czech Republic. I still have quite a bit of power."

Jessie laughed even louder as she typed, enjoying the playful suffering her father and godfather were suffering at the hands of Ms. Stasny. She hoped she get to laugh like this with Jonny again. She missed it. She truly did.

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 **To Be Continued...**


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

 **Author's Notes: A special thanks to Goddess Evie for her help with the forming of this chapter. Without her assistance this would not have turned out nearly as well as it has. Thank you!**

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"This is the last one." Hadji announced the moment the stopper was inserted into the last vial. "Now we just have to hope that it works."

"It's the best solution we have," Doctor Quest patted the teen on the shoulder. "Good work, son."

Proud of his father's praise, Hadji nodded with a little smile. Picking up the rack that held the plague vaccines, Hadji carefully placed them into one of the lab's refrigerators. "I suggest we administer the vaccines sooner rather than later. Once they'd cooled in storage for the next two hours we can proceed."

"I'll let the others know." Agent Altine smiled then made her way towards the exit.

Benton returned to his own workstation. "You should try and get some rest, son. You've been working pretty hard non-stop in the lab."

Hadji watched his father take a seat, his eyes once again studying the information displayed on his tablet, scribbling notes as he interpreted the data.

The pain in his father's eyes, the slackness of his shoulders, the tiredness in his voice all tore at Hadji's heart. Hadji knew that Doctor Quest would work himself to the point of a complete breakdown if someone didn't tell him to take a break as well.

Stepping over to the scientist, Hadji lowered his voice and asked, "Do you think your formula will work?"

"I have to, Hadji," Benton replied without looking up. "Jonny's exposure to The Consortium's drugs has not been nearly as long as the two men in custody back in D.C. and that is a positive. However, the sooner I can get my formula to Jonny, the sooner it can begin to reverse the damage to his brain."

"Jonny never liked needles." Hadji chuckled as his eyes wandered to the liquid concoction that Benton had created.

Leaning back, Benton rubbed his hands over his face. Hadji heard him let out a deep sigh before his father's eyes found his. "No, he doesn't. And I can imagine that whatever condition he's in when we find him, he's not going to standby willingly and let me inject him."

Confusion, laced with sadness, burned on Hadji's face. "Why do you think that?"

"He's been brainwashed and manipulated for months. He tried to kill Race. His tormentor, Greg Temple, may be dead, but he's still under the influence of the drugs and probably still being fed lies from his current captor. Hadji, I'm afraid Jonny is going to fight us when we do find him. He's not going to want to come home willingly."

Hadji frowned. As the more level-headed of the two Quest boys, Hadji always strove to look at situations through the lenses of logic and reason. But his father was right. There would be no logic or reason in the upcoming days. Jonny; his brother, his best friend, had been changed into someone that Hadji didn't know. Yet, Hadji, just like everyone else, refused to believe that Jonny was permanently lost to them.

"Perhaps when he sees us, he will realize that everything he has been through, all the pain and suffering, was not caused by us, but by those that tricked him into believing they were his friends. Father, I cannot accept that Jonny would turn his back on us. I cannot explain why he did what he did to Race, but you are his father. I am his brother. He will have to remember us. Remember that we love him, won't he?"

"I hope so, Hadji." Benton nodded. The scientist looked back into his son's eyes and smiled. "You should really get some rest now, Hadji."

"I think we both should at this point." Hadji countered. "I do not think you can tweak your formula anymore at this point. Not without further data. Data we do not have nor will we have prior to departing."

He heard his father chuckled before he stood and stretched his arms over his head. "Yes, son. I could sit here all night tweaking and adjusting, however without any more information, there's nothing to say that it would improve what I already have."

Hadji was happy that his father agreed with his reasoning. Glancing at his watch, Hadji remarked, "It is almost dinner time. Should we check to see if the others are hungry?"

"I do want to stop by the conference room to go over a few details with Race and Phil, but honestly, son, I wouldn't mind enjoying a quiet dinner tonight, just you and I. We've been going on and on for months looking for Jonny and I feel like I've neglected you to some extent."

"You have not neglected me, father." Hadji shook his head as he spoke. "Jonny's safety and return is our number one priority."

"It is, but that doesn't mean I cannot give you some of my time too. I just want to talk with you. Find out how things back in Bangalore are going. School. Careers. Love life." Benton tilted his head and smiled at the last statement.

"I would like that too." Hadji agreed. At first he felt he'd somehow be betraying Jonny by not focusing all of his efforts on his brother, but when he answered his father, he realized that it wasn't a betrayal at all. He could still think about his brother, but he could take a little time for himself to reconnect with his father for a short time.

"Come on then," Benton placed his formula in the same refrigerator as the other vials, just on a different shelf before gathering up his belongings. Hadji went and did the same.

Less than five minutes later, they stood at the doors to the lab. Pushing through the double doors, Hadji flicked off the lights and fell in step with his father.

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"How's that head of yours feeling?" Dugger inquired.

The pair of I-1 agents were on the road, driving across Europe. They'd been traveling throughout the day and night, only making stops to refuel, grab food and alternate driving duties as they tailed Van Brandt and Jonny at a safe distance.

"Still hurts like a son of a bitch." Velk grumbled from the passenger seat. He popped a few aspirin and downed them with a chug from his water bottle. "First Bannon's daughter smacks me in the head with her handgun back in Ohio, then I take a round in the plate in Africa, and now this," He gestured at his head and forearm. "When we get home I'm asking for a raise."

Dugger laughed, "Good luck with that."

Velk smirk, "Well, maybe just some time off then."

"I think we'll all need some time off after this mission is complete." Dugger noted as he maneuvered around a slow moving semi-truck with plates from Poland. "Me personally, I'm gonna put in for a month off."

"And do what?" Velk asked.

"Travel around Europe." Dugger smiled.

"Now I have to wonder if you hit your head or something during one of those shootouts." Velk grinned. "Personally, I've seen enough of this side of the Atlantic for quite some time."

"Nonsense," Dugger waved a hand at the windshield, "There's more to enjoy besides highways and port gun fights. You should ask that girl in the signal intelligence office if she wants to take a trip with you."

Velk gulped, "What girl?"

"You know," Dugger teased, "the one with that just started working for us about a year ago."

"Megan?" Velk asked. As soon as he spoke the woman's name he knew Dugger had set him up.

The Cajun's laugh echoed through the SUV's interior. "Ha! I knew you had a thing for her."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, Dug." Velk joked half-seriously.

"One thing you need to learn, if you haven't already, is that everyone knows everyone's business in I-1. And even if we didn't, I'm pretty good at my job, hero."

"And you're arrogant too it seems." Velk replied.

Dugger shook his head, "Not arrogant. Confident."

"Same thing. And shouldn't you be worried about your own love life and not mine?" Velk shot back.

"Hey, now," Dugger grumbled, "I'm perfectly fine being unattached at the moment."

"Sure you are, big man. Maybe if you had your own girlfriend you'd stop worrying about the rest of us."

"Cocky you are, boy." Dugger responded lightheartedly.

A beep from the data pad that was sitting in the center console interrupted the men's verbal jabs. Picking up the device, Velk studied it for a moment, "Looks like they've stopped. Where the hell are we anyways?"

"Slovakia, just like Corbin assumed." Dugger grumbled. Increasing his speed to catch up to the targets.

"You think they've arrived?" Velk asked, pushing buttons on the data pad while at the same time calling up information on his smart phone.

"Probably." Dugger replied. "Any chance you can pull a grid coordinate?"

"That's what I'm doing now." Velk responded without looking up from his work. "We have to get closer to get a ten digit grid coordinate. We're still at least twenty or so miles away."

"Got it." Dugger said and increased his speed another five to ten miles per hour. "Call Corbin."

Velk nodded, doing as he was told. Placing the call and leaving it on speaker phone the two men held their breath until the call was connected.

 _"What have you got?"_ Corbin asked, skipping all pretenses of pleasantries.

"Sir, we think they've arrived at the hideout." Velk reported. "We're rushing to catch up now."

The two men listened to the conversation that bled through the phone; Phil and Race were conversing, probably studying the readout on their end.

 _"What's the terrain like?"_ Race asked next.

"We haven't seen a major city center for some time." Dugger replied while keeping his eyes on the road. "We're definitely hitting some mountainous terrain, gradually getting steeper as we go."

 _"They're in the mountains."_ Corbin grumbled.

"Yeah," Dugger nodded even though the other men couldn't see him. "And it's been snowing pretty steadily since we crossed the border. It looks like some pretty thick layers of snow the further we go."

 _"Dug, according the map we're looking at, there's a small village about five miles from where the beacon stopped."_ Corbin stated. _"If they're still stationary by the time you reach it, stop there."_

"Got it, boss." Dugger answered.

Roberts was the next to speak. _"There is a castle in that area. Unoccupied from what data I can call up from Slovakia records. However, there is a problem."_

"What problem?" Velk asked. They didn't need any more problems at the moment.

 _"It sits on the top of a hillside."_ Roberts responded. Either he didn't hear the frustration in Velk's voice or he didn't care. _"overseeing a vast lake with a vertical cliff-side facing the body of water."_

 _"We need eyes on, Dug."_ Corbin reiterated. _"Get to that village, then proceed on foot, but keep a safe distance. Don't get spotted. We're ramping up now. You got enough cold weather clothing, food, and ammo?"_

"We'll be alright till you get here with more." Dugger answered stoically. "Just don't leave us waiting too long. It's pretty damn cold."

 _"That Cajun blood of yours will have to make due."_ Race laughed into the phone. _"Or else get snuggly with Matt."_

"Asshole." Dugger and Velk both laughed at the same time.

 _"Report once you have eyes on." Corbin_ interrupted, his tone nothing but serious. _"We'll be inserting hot."_

"You guys get to have all the fun." Dugger snorted. "Just hurry the hell up."

 _"We're on our way,"_ Race answered. _"Just keep watching out for that kid, guys."_

Velk hung up the phone, stowing it away in his pocket. "You get the feeling that shit's about to get real?"

 _"_ Yeah, brother, I do and honestly, it's not a great feeling."

Velk nodded. "Agreed."

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"You all ready to do this?" Race asked.

With the exceptions of Estella, Alena, and Colonel Martinek, the rest of the team had boarded the Air Force C-17. Strapped into the red jump seats, Race watched the people most important to him as they cinched down their belts, readjusted their gear, patted their parachutes; doing just about anything to take their mind off of what they were about to do. Kulhanek and his Commandos occupied the far side of the cargo hold. Kulhanek was busy speaking to his men as they checked and rechecked each other.

Corbin was speaking to one of the crew members of the aircraft, pointing between a map he held and the different teams, indicating which team would jump at which location.

"So we really have to jump out of the plane?" Hadji asked, readjusting his seatbelt. He was seated between Benton and Agent Altine.

"Yep." Race nodded. "It's called a HALO jump, high altitude low opening. Your wrist monitors," Race waggled his own wrist to show his, "will send a signal tone to your helmet's internal comms unit for when you need to pull your parachute. You also have a reserve chute. This method of insertion will allow us to essentially scream in before The Consortium's radars can pick us up."

"Just think of it as skydiving, Hadj." Jessie threw in as she stepped up next to her dad.

"Skydiving wearing combat gear and carrying weapons." Hadji gulped, but managed to smile a little in the process.

"You'll do great, son." Benton tried to sound reassuring.

Race doubled checked their gear. Both Benton and Hadji carried handguns, but no rifles. They'd stay in reserve with Reynolds. The I-1 Agent was armed with a rifle and handgun, so Race had seen no need for Benton and Hadji to have anything more than the pistols for their own protection. Benton had agreed.

"Kulhanek and his men will jump first then the crew chief will give us the signal. Just follow me and everything will be fine." Race gave Hadji a thumbs up. "Got it?"

"Got it. This is definitely more along the lines of something Jonny would excel at rather than myself." Hadji exhaled, concentrating on his breathing.

Phil came over and joined the group. "Don't worry, Hadji, you'll be on the ground before you realize it."

When Hadji nodded to the Director, Phil disappeared again and when Jessie moved towards her own seat Race took the opportunity to follow his daughter.

Jessie concentrated on getting comfortable and pulling the shoulder straps over her bulky gear. Race knew his daughter felt his presence, but for some reason she had been distant with him the last day or so.

Squatting down in front of his only child, Race helped her adjust the shoulder straps. Drawing her attention up to him, he asked, "What's going on, Ponchita?"

"Nothing, dad," Jessie's reply was immediate and curt, but she didn't look at his eyes. "Just nervous jitters I suppose."

"From what I've heard and seen, you've handled your nerves extremely well up to this point, honey."

She shrugged in response, "If you say so. Thanks."

"Jess, what's going on? I know you must have a million different feelings coursing through you at the moment..."

"It's nothing, dad," Jessie cut him off. She finally met his gaze as she clicked her shoulder straps into the lap harness. Race blinked, but caught the slight waver in her eyes. Her eyes that were so much like her mother's. In a flash Jessie's emerald green eyes darted towards Jade and then back at her father. A less intuitive person would have missed it, but not Race.

"Is that what this is about?" He asked. He didn't want to start an argument with his daughter right now, but whenever the subject of Jade came up, Race knew there was bound to be emotional turmoil from all parties. "Don't worry about Jade, Ponchita."

Jessie shook her head a little, looked at her hands and then finally at her father. Race could see the conflict, but also the strength and determination in his daughter's eyes. "Dad, right now all I care about is Jonny. I may not like Jade being with us, but that's not my decision. Just promise me that when this is all over you'll think about what she did."

For a moment Race felt like he was speaking to Estella and not his daughter. His two redheads had more than genetic traits in common, that was for sure. The thought made Race smile. "Jessie, at the end of the day, you are the most important woman in my life." Race soothed. Jessie's features immediately softened. "And you always will be."

"Promise?" Jessie squeaked. Race could tell his daughter was a bundle of emotions, but he kept reminding himself that Jonny wasn't the only victim in this entire ordeal. His daughter had been a victim and the healing was going to take time for everyone, not just Jonny.

Standing up, Race leaned forward to kiss his daughter on the forehead. "I promise, beautiful."

Jessie smiled warmly; genuinely. Race adored his daughter's smile. As much as she needed to smile, he needed to see her do it. Jessie swished her head from side to side, pushing the strands of her ponytail back from her shoulders so she could place her helmet on.

"Love you, Ponchita." Race told his daughter.

"Love you too, dad." Jessie responded in kind.

When he was satisfied Jessie was settled, Race shot the two Quest men one last reassuring look. He could see the uneasiness in their mannerisms. Agent Altine was speaking to Hadji and Roberts was nodding at Phil as the Director walked by the group. The rear ramp of the aircraft whirred closed and Phil moved to his seat, giving Race the chance to speak to Jade one last time prior to take off.

Plopping down next to her, Race grunted as the threaded fabric groaned beneath his weight. Placing a gloved hand on her knee, squeezing, he drew her gaze to his. "How you holding up?"

"My nerves are bundled in a knot in my stomach," Jade answered, exhaling slightly as she did. "This is a new experience. I thought I'd pretty much done it all, but I guess not."

Race laughed. Leaning his forehead against Jade's temple, Race lowered his voice so only she could hear, "Just remember, don't worry about the rest of these guys, alright."

"It's a little hard not to when I'm surrounded by agents that would love to arrest me at the drop of a hat."

"I told you before, babe, stick with me. Let's get through this, get Jonny back and stop The Consortium. Everything after that will work itself out."

"If you say so, handsome." Jade smirked as she placed a hand on top of his that was still firmly planted on her knee.

"I do say so." Race whispered into her ear.

With a smile, Race planted a kiss on his lover's temple, his lips lingering just a moment longer than normal as he took in the sweet, intoxicating scent that wafted from her pores.

He had been so drawn to the woman that he barely registered the aircraft rolling down the runway in preparation for takeoff.

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Jessie's scowl deepened. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared in the direction of her father and Jade. All of her father's reassurances a few minutes before were wiped away when Jessie saw him talking to the insufferable woman. Watching the pair engage in their hushed conversation, Jessie could only imagine what they were saying and when her father planted a kiss on the side of Jade's head, Jessie resisted the urge to scream.

Her eyes and mind were so focused on what she was seeing, she completely ignored Corbin as he sat down next to her. She vaguely registered her godfather's actions as he looked between her and the objects of her annoyance.

It wasn't until he smacked the back of her helmet with an open palm that she turned her attention towards him.

"What was that for?" Jessie scoffed, giving him an irritated look.

Phil didn't appear bothered by his goddaughter's demeanor. Instead he smiled and said, "You ready for what's ahead?"

Jessie nodded. Flexing her fingers a number of times, she attempted to turn her mind's focus back to the mission ahead of them. "Yes."

"Bullshit." Phil answered which caused Jessie to pause and turn her nose up at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Stop worrying about Jade and your dad over there." Phil said as he reached for the pouches on the front of Jessie's vest, grabbing one of her thirty-round magazines and flipping it over. "You're so focused on those two that you packed your mags incorrectly."

"Damnit." Jessie mumbled a little. "But how can I not?" She gestured a little towards the duo before beginning to readjust her rifle magazines.

"Your dad and Jade are going to do what they do, Jess," Phil offered as he took her rifle from her. Opening the breach he started checking the functionality of the weapon as he spoke, "you should know by now that's just how they are."

Jessie sneered. "How can my dad even trust her after what she did?"

"That's between him and her." Phil stated. Reconnecting the upper and lower receivers of her rifle, Phil ran a functions check on it before attaching the sound suppressor to the end of the barrel and handing it back to her. Jessie noted that each rifle, to include the ones the Czech's had, even though they were different types of weapons, all had silencers to aid in the stealth and surprise of the operation.

"Look at me, Jessie." Phil said once Jessie had her rifle back in her hands.

Jessie's gaze lingered on her dad for another second before she turned towards Phil. The serious look in his eyes made her blink. "What is it?"

"I need to know you're focused, Jess. You're on my team and I'm going to keep you safe, but I also need to know you can function independently in the event some shit goes down. Right now, I don't think you're focused on that."

With a sigh Jessie realized he was right. She wasn't focused. She was too concerned with her dad giving Jade a little kiss when she should be concentrating on the mission and Jonny. "I'm sorry, Phil. I'll get my mind straight."

"We don't have much time before we're over Dugger's coordinates." Phil explained. "But until then, just relax and focus on the task at hand."

Jessie gave him a firm nod. "Got it."

"Good," Phil smiled. Leaning back, he removed his helmet and set it on his lap so he could run his hands through his hair, scratching his scalp. Leaning over towards her, he grinned as he jerked his chin at Race, "but for the record, I get your feeling, Jessie."

Jessie smiled at Phil's statement. As the C-17 turned then picked up speed, Jessie leaned her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the aircraft lift from the ground.

"So have you thought any more about what you said about Jonny?" Phil asked once the plane was airborne.

"I'm trying not to think about that, Phil."

"One step at a time, huh?" Phil smirked, pulling on his gloves.

As quickly as the topic arose, Jessie desperately wanted to change the subject. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "So...you and Alena, huh?"

Phil cocked his head, giving her an unreadable look. "I thought we covered that already. My relationship with Alena was a long time ago."

"You know she still has feelings for you, right?" Jessie teased, elbowing him in the side of his body armor, directly over his ribs.

"We're still friends." Phil replied.

"Right," Jessie laughed. "What's your wife's name again?"

"Sarah." Phil mumbled. From the sound of his voice, Jessie assumed he was perturbed, but looking at his face, she could tell he was playing along with her. "Why?"

"Does Sarah know about Alena?"

"Does Jonny know about your past boyfriends?" Phil shot back with a grin.

"Not all of them." Jessie retorted, wiggling her finger at Corbin.

"So that answers your question." Phil chuckled.

"Nice one, Phil," Jessie shook her head with a grin. "Nice one."

"Like I keep saying, you Bannons are going to put me into an early grave." Phil laughed. Holding up his right hand, he balled it up into a fist and held it out to Jessie.

With a grin, Jessie mirrored Phil's gesture and bumped her fist against his. The next time Jessie's feet would be on solid ground, they'd be assaulting The Consortium's lair and rescuing Jonny.

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"That was harrowing." Jonny stated with a loud exhale.

"I know how to drive." Van Brandt growled as he steered the vehicle through the castle's gate. But Jonny picked up on the man's nervous tone and a quick glance at his hands showed the Brit had been latched onto the truck's steering wheel with a vice like grip.

As mother nature continued to blanket the area with snow, the drive up the pass to the mountain had been distressful for both men. The wheels of the truck slipped a number of times on hidden ice while Van Brandt pushed the engine to its max to get the truck safely to its final destination. Jonny had spied a few steep drop offs along the route with nothing but a guardrail and a spattering of pine trees to prevent them from tumbling over the edge.

The castle had been chosen for a number of reason, with its location on top of the steep mountainside cliffs being ideal for defense against an assault. Jonny knew that any men foolish enough to attempt an offensive attack against the fortress would be forced to fight an uphill battle through thick forests, deep snow, and sharp cliffs with over three hundred feet drops to the lake below.

Drifts of snow had been pushed to the edges of the courtyard, but the snow continued to fall and a thin blanket of fresh powder was already covering most of the ground. When Jonny jumped down from the cab of the truck, his boots sunk slightly into the snow and mud. If it didn't stop snowing soon, the entire courtyard would be a quagmire of mud and snow.

"What took you so long?"

Jonny turned at the sound of the voice. Scowling he watched Doctor Zin and the rest of the board members, minus Ezekiel Rage, emerge from the heavy wooden doors of the main building.

Moving to stand next to Van Brandt at the front of the truck, Jonny observed the interaction closely. He could see the agitation in Anaya's behavior, but if he hadn't of known about her and Temple's relationship he may have missed picking up on the signs of a distraught woman coming face to face with her lover's death.

Van Brandt shrugged with ease at Doctor Zin's inquiry. Jonny smirked a little. Just like Temple, Van Brandt didn't seem to be intimated by Doctor Zin. Or if he was, he hid it extremely well.

"Driving this vehicle half way across Europe and through wintry conditions delayed our arrival."

"Returning Temple's body was unnecessary." Zin grumbled with a wave at the truck.

"Father," Anaya mumbled, but said no more. To Jonny it was clear that Zin still didn't know about Anaya and Greg or that Anaya was pregnant.

"Unnecessary to you, perhaps," Van Brandt shot back, "however I made the man a promise."

Zin snorted. "When you are done dealing with his body, come see me in the operations center. We have much to discuss."

"Where's Rage?" Van Brandt asked, making no move to indicate the conversation was over.

"He's putting the final touches of the next set of devices." Julia replied before Zin could answer.

Jonny gave the woman a disgusted look. It wasn't her statement that bothered him, but Julia herself. He hadn't forgotten what she'd done to him, his hand moving to run his fingers over the scar that was almost completely healed on his cheek.

"I need to speak with Rage before we attempt another attack," Van Brandt was saying, drawing Jonny's attention back to the conversation at hand, "there were some issues with the attack in Mogadishu that we should work to rectify in order to obtain maximum effectiveness."

"Very well," Zin growled, "I look forward to your full report. I will send for Rage to meet us as well."

Spinning on his heel, Zin departed. Melana and Julia did the same, but Anaya hesitated for a slight moment. Jonny caught the look that passed between her and Van Brandt. The Englishman nodded to the Mongolian woman. Anaya did the same then turned and caught up with her father, sister and Julia.

"What was that about?" Jonny asked as they moved to the back of the truck. A few men had already gathered there to help with the transportation of Temple's body.

"We'll discuss later," Van Brandt replied. Jonny knew David didn't want to speak about Anaya and Greg in front of the others. "For now, let's get Temple's body down to the morgue so the doctor can prepare him for cremation."

"Alright." Jonny nodded solemnly.

Since their flight from Mogadishu, Jonny hadn't really stopped to think about what had happened and Temple's resulting death. But now that they were back at The Consortium's hideout, the totality of it all finally smacked Jonny in the chest like a sledgehammer. While he did have Van Brandt, it was obvious the man had his own agenda that took priority over Jonny's protection. So without Temple, Jonny was on his own. He'd do what he had to do to help Anaya, he owed that much to Temple, but once that was done, Jonny was going to have to decide what was best for him. He assumed Zin had plans for him, but was Jonny truly prepared to do Zin's bidding? Especially if it meant attacking his real father? Killing him? Following Temple had been one thing, but following Zin...Jonny wasn't sure that was what he'd signed up for when he joined The Consortium.

"Hey," Van Brandt snapped his fingers, bringing Jonny out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, got a little spacey there for a second." Jonny mumbled as he reached into his pocket and produced his key for the container lock and handed it over to the Brit.

"Remember what I told you before, Jonny. This isn't the place to let your mind wander and get 'spacey' as you say. Watch your back. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Yeah, I understand." Jonny nodded.

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Inhaling and exhaling, Jessie sucked in the oxygen through her mask and watched as the Czech Commandos line up one behind the other on the left side of the aircraft. The ramp opened. A gust of wind blew through the hold, forcing Jessie to reach forward and grip the back of Agent Roberts' vest. Jessie was thankful for the darkened visors; while she couldn't see anyone else's expression they also couldn't see hers. She felt a shaky hand on her shoulder. Looking back over her shoulder, she nodded at the masked figure behind her. She knew it was Hadji. He gave her a thumbs up, which Jessie promptly returned. Facing forward again, Jessie continued to concentrate on her breathing as she kept her eyes planted firmly on Roberts' back once again.

A light in the upper corner of the hold changed and the Air Force crew chief, standing near the ramp but secured to the aircraft's interior frame by a long rope like strap motioned with his arms towards the Czechs. Jessie watched with fascination and dread as the crew chief stepped aside to allow the Commandos to exit. To the redhead it appeared to be just another day at the office for these men as they jogged to the end of the ramp, throwing themselves out into the air and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

When the last Czech soldier had jumped, the crew chief came over and motioned to Race who was at the front of the remaining column. Jessie knew they'd be jumping as soon as the crew chief gave the signal. The plan was for Kulhanek's Commandos to land south of the castle and traverse the treacherous cliff face, a duty the men actually volunteered for; reasoning that no one would be expecting an attack force to scale the cliffs. The remaining team members, split between her dad and Corbin, would link up with Dugger and Velk who were currently in a hidden position observing the castle, spread out, then assault the castle from both side of the road.

It was dangerous, but the plan was to use the cover of night to aide each team with stealth. Dugger had reported that sentries patrolled the castle walls, but he assured Race and Phil he'd have their timing down by the time everyone landed.

The assault plan itself was relatively simple. The Czechs would secure the wall. Race's team, consisting of Jade, Agent Velk, and Agent Roberts would breach and search for Jonny. Phil's team, to include Jessie, Agent Dugger, and Agent Altine would search for Rage's biological weapons cache. Doctor Quest, Hadji, and Agent Reynolds would remain in reserve outside the castle's perimeter, waiting on standby in case they were needed.

The light changed again.

The crew chief signaled.

Jessie saw her father step to the side, waving the column forward. Reynolds was the first out the back of the aircraft. To Jessie, the rest was pretty much a blur. They all shuffled forward and before she knew it, Roberts launched himself outside. She felt Race's encouraging hand on her shoulder. Jessie inhaled, set her jaw beneath her oxygen mask and stepped forward.

The next thing she knew, she was falling through the night. The distance counter rattled off in her earpiece as she plummeted towards the earth in an attempt to reach terminal velocity and come in under The Consortium's radars or other detection methods the evil organization might have employed.

Jessie thought she'd be scared, but all of her fears had vanquished the moment she exited the aircraft. The rush that accompanied the freefall was unlike any that Jessie had felt before. Even when she'd gone skydiving in the past, the thrill she felt then didn't match what she felt now. Maybe it was the circumstances, maybe it was the additional weight of her gear and equipment, maybe it was the camaraderie she witnessed between her companions, and maybe it was because she was risking everything to save the love of her life, to save Jonny. No matter what the reasons, Jessie couldn't help but grin.

When the tone beeped in her earpiece, Jessie reached towards her chest and pulled the ripcord. The parachute deployed, jerking her body upright. Hands finding the risers, Jessie manipulated her chute as it caught in the wind. Pressing her knees and ankles together, Jessie braced for contact and a moment later, she was on the ground, the impact jarring her bones and muscles.

"Damn, what a ride." Jessie breathed, ready to get to work.

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"Anaya," Jonny spoke softly as he knocked on the Zin woman's door and pushed it open slightly.

"What is it?" Came the response. Jonny took it as an invitation to enter.

Stepping inside quickly, he shut the door behind him and moved across the room. Similar in size and style to Jonny's own room, he tried not to think about the time Temple might have spent here with Anaya. To think about it made Jonny miss his mentor and right now he didn't have time to mourn, at least not yet.

"Anaya," Jonny said the woman's name again as he stepped closer to her. She was seated cross legged on the edge of the bed. Her face was drained, worn. She looked crushed. When he was close enough, Jonny reached out and took her hand. It felt like the right thing to do, but it was still a strange feeling for him, comforting a woman that had at one time been his enemy.

"Anaya, I know." Jonny kept his voice low.

Her eyes shot to his and she inhaled sharply. Jonny felt her try to pull her hand out from his, but he held her tight. "How?" Her lips quivered.

"I overheard Greg and David talking." Jonny confessed. "But I want to help. I know Van Brandt is planning to help. But I wanted to tell you that Greg fought to the bitter end. He really did. I know he wanted to come back to you."

"I wish he'd never gone. I wish he had stood up to my father right then." Anaya shook her head. "Now I don't know what to do."

"We'll get you out of here. Just stay positive, okay?" Jonny smiled a little. "We'll think of something."

Anaya stared at him for a few moments. He could tell she was studying him, wondering if he was sincere. He couldn't blame her, it had to be difficult for her, just like it was difficult for him. But if nothing else they were bound to each other thanks to Temple.

"Why are you helping me?" Anaya asked after a few seconds.

"I told you, I owe it to Greg. And honestly, Anaya, I can tell that you of all people realize that things are not going to get better around here. Get out while you still can."

"What about you?"

Jonny shrugged. Wearing one of his goofy lop-sided grins, he replied, "I'll figure something out. But for now, I better get back to the ops center before someone notices I'm not there. We'll talk more soon, okay?"

Anaya nodded. "I'm going to go see him. Temple I mean."

He nodded as he dropped her hand. "I understand."

When he reached the door, he heard Anaya call out his name. "Jonny."

Looking back, he said, "Yeah?"

"Thank you. I mean it. Thank you, Jonny." Anaya stated.

Without saying any more, Jonny nodded back at the pregnant woman. Seconds later he was out the door and heading down the hall to meet back up with Van Brandt.

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Once all the parachutes, oxygen tanks, masks and straps were secured and hidden, Phil waved the others to him. Everyone had landed safely in the small field. Kulhanek had already checked in via radio to report his team was on the ground and moving towards the cliff.

Moving into the wood line of the forest that surrounded the small field, Phil peered into the darkness for a second, then reached into a pouch on his vest. Grabbing his night vision goggles, he attached them to the mount on his helmet and lowered the optics over his eyes. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Race doing the same while everyone else loaded their weapons as quickly and quietly as possible.

Dugger's voice whispered into Phil's earpiece. "We see you. Approaching your position now from the north."

Phil kept his weapon tucked into the pocket of his shoulder as he knelt down into the snow. Leaning against the closest tree, he saw Race raise his rifle in the direction Dugger stated. Roberts, Altine, and Reynolds completed the perimeter of their little circle with Hadji, Benton, and Jessie in the middle.

Dugger and Velk were big men, but they moved with a cat like grace through the snow. Moments later, they were kneeling in front of Phil and Race.

Lifting his goggles, Phil greeted his two agents with a smile. "Good to see your ugly mugs."

"Likewise, boss." Dugger smacked Corbin on the shoulder. Then he turned towards Race and said, "You too, Bannon. Glad to see you back on your feet."

"Glad to be back on my feet, Dug. Now I'm ready to get this over with."

"We all are, brother." Dugger said. "We've been freezing our balls off out here."

Phil turned a little so the two men could enter the circle. They looked cold, but to their credit they weren't actually complaining. Reynolds pushed his assault pack towards Dugger, indicating the additional gear and ammo he carried for the two men.

Before they shrugged into their new clothing, Benton saddled up to them. Reaching into his vest, he withdrew the case where he carried the vaccines for both men. Setting it down in the snow, he carefully pulled the first needle, already filled with the serum, and removed the cap. Dugger grimaced, causing Phil to smirk. It appeared the big Cajun didn't like needles, at least the medical kind. His tattoos indicating he didn't mind hours of torturous pain under those types of needles. Dugger pushed his sleeve up and Benton injected him. Next Benton did the same for Velk using a new needle.

"To protect against exposure to the plague." Benton breathed. Replacing the caps on both syringes, the Doctor placed them back in the hard plastic case and stowed it away in his vest.

Injections received, Phil watched as the two men quickly donned some warmer clothing, white and black camouflage similar to what everyone else wore then put their vests back on over their new jackets. Next they strapped on their helmets, secured fully loaded magazines into their pouches and attached suppressors to the ends of their rifles. Finally, they took a moment to tear into a pouch of beef jerky Velk had pulled out of the bag.

"Alright, everyone gather around." Phil stated when the two I-1 agents were ready. "We move up together and wait till Kulhanek signals they've started their climb. Once we have the castle in sight we'll branch off into our separate teams. Dug, you're with me. Matt with Bannon. Weapons checks now. We want to keep surprise and stealth on our side as long as possible. Only use deadly force if you have no other choice, only exception is Jonny. If someone surrenders or is unarmed, use your flex-cuffs, secure them and move on. Once Jonny is secured and the weapons are located, we'll consolidate, regroup, and get Jonny back to his dad at the rally point. After that, we'll figure out what to do with everyone else. Any questions?"

When there were none, Phil gave each individual a firm look. Finally he said, "Alright. We move out in five. Let's do this."

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 **To Be Continued...**


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

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 _"We've reached the base of the cliff."_ Kulhanek's voice cracked into Race's earpiece. _"No signs of motion sensor devices or anti-personnel mines. Beginning our ascent."_

Race shook his head and a grin spread out over his face. "Damn those guys are good."

Phil's expression didn't change, Race could see that even in the darkness of the early morning calm. Keeping his firing hand on the grip of his rifle, Phil motioned with his left for Race to move his team across the road.

With a nod back towards his team, Race motioned for them to follow. Jade was directly behind him, with Roberts next then Velk bringing up the rear. Through his night vision goggles, Phil watched Race's team traverse the snow encrusted road. As the snow continued to fall, he hoped the fluffy white flakes would eventually cover their tracks before dawn arrived. Dugger reported that there were no patrols that moved through the woods, however, he and Velk had not been on ground long enough to really determine all of The Consortium's tactics.

Lying on his stomach, Phil waited and hoped that they'd be done with the assault before things got too hairy.

 _The best laid plans,_ Phil mused in his head as he pushed all thoughts of cold from his mind and wait for Kulhanek to send another report. Scaling the cliff would be extremely dangerous, but he had every bit of confidence in the Commandos to quickly make it to the top. When the Czechs reached the base of the wall, Phil and Race would move their teams forward. So for now, they just had to watch and wait.

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Jonny wandered into the operations center. Dawn was quickly approaching and he wanted to get some sleep, but decided to make a quick stop here in order to check in with Van Brandt and hopefully find out the next portion of Zin's plans. The low hum that filled the room reminded Jonny that The Consortium was always working, always plotting. At times he wondered when the rest of the board members managed to find time to sleep themselves.

Seated at the table was Van Brandt, Doctor Zin, his daughter Melana, Julia, and Ezekiel Rage. Moving forward, Jonny caught movement in the corner of his eye and saw his friend Andrew waving at him. The young man was seated at his workstation, but came over to greet Jonny before the blonde made it to the table.

"Hey, Jonny, good to see you." Andrew stated with a smile.

"How've things been back here?" Jonny moved to the side so he didn't draw the attention of the group at the table.

"Hectic," Andrew sighed. Jonny noted the bags under his friend's eyes. "We've been working non-stop ever since we found out about Temple. Word is that Doctor Zin wants to accelerate the timetable for the next phase of his plan."

"Which is?" Jonny pushed a little. He didn't think Andrew was privy to the overall objectives of the organization, but maybe the kid had overheard the board members while working his shifts.

Andrew shrugged and Jonny saw the boy's eyes wander towards Zin for a moment. Then he lowered his voice and said, "I heard mention of some place in Switzerland."

"Switzerland?" Jonny mused.

Andrew nodded, "Yeah. Some palace in Geneva."

"The Palace of Nations." Jonny guessed. It wasn't a palace, but the name of the United Nations Office in Geneva. It was the second most important U.N. location behind the Headquarters in New York. "That's a big step from setting off bombs in Somalia."

"If you say so." The other boy replied. "I should get back to my station. I still have a couple hours till my shift ends. Just wanted to say hello and let you know I'm glad you're back."

Jonny shot the other kid a smile. "Glad to be back. Let's get together later."

Andrew's face lit up at the suggestion. "Deal."

After Andrew returned to his station, Jonny headed over to the table and took a seat next to Van Brandt. He could tell the discussion he'd walked in on was not going well.

"My devices were flawless." Rage was in the middle of saying. "Perhaps your methods of placement were the cause of the delays."

Jonny still couldn't get used to looking directly at Ezekiel Rage. Even behind his death mask, his eyes were cold and unforgiving. However, Jonny did find it interesting that even with Rage's insanity, he was able to function in such a way as to create The Consortium's deadly concoctions.

"Either way," Van Brandt huffed as he examined his fingernails. "I do not recommend we attack the U.N. just yet. We should conduct at least one more test run."

"We've already delayed too much." Zin growled. "You foolishly let Intelligence One close in on you in Africa, Mister Van Brandt."

"Should I have allowed them to overtake us?" Van Brandt shot back with a sneer. "I acted to ensure neither myself nor Jonny were captured."

"You were seen!" Zin shouted, slamming his fist against the table. "Mister Temple's bravado led them straight to you. It's not a surprise Race Bannon was able to close in and kill him."

Jonny fumed. Zin had no idea what Temple had gone through during their time in Mogadishu and to hear the Mongolian megalomaniac speak so cavalierly about Temple's death infuriated Jonny.

Van Brandt must have felt Jonny's tension because the Englishman turned and looked at him. The biochemist's eyes reflected Jonny's own feelings towards Zin, Van Brandt didn't like him either. Jonny kept his mouth shut as Van Brandt turned his attention back to Zin and Rage.

"We've had a long journey, Doctor Zin," David declared. Standing he continued, "Jonny and I both need some rest. We can discuss this again later in the day."

"Are you dismissing me, Mister Van Brandt?" Zin growled.

Jonny smirked when Van Brandt careened his neck, causing it to pop. "I am dismissing myself, Doctor Zin. Rest assured that I fully support your plans to attack the U.N., however at this stage I believe we need to slow down and let the heat from Intelligence One die down. The Palace of Nations isn't going anywhere."

"The Book of Rage demands the sacrifice of the unworthy, Mister Van Brandt." Rage spat, his mechanical hand clenching and unclenching in the Englishman's direction.

 _There's that insanity._ Jonny told himself when Rage made his proclamation.

"You'll have your sacrifice, Ezekiel." Van Brandt replied coolly.

Rage cocked his head towards Zin. "Perhaps David has a point, Doctor Zin."

Jonny observed Zin's face darken as the man realized Van Brandt was not going to relent. But to the scientist's credit, his frustrated look only lasted for a matter of seconds before it was replaced with a sly smile. "Very well," Zin remarked. "We will reconvene later. This discussion is not over."

"Fine." Van Brandt snorted. Without another word, he stepped away from the table and headed towards the door. Jonny gave the others one last look then followed behind the biochemist.

When they were in the hallway, Jonny came up alongside the Brit and asked, "What now?"

"We need to get Anaya away from here sooner rather than later. I can only hold her father off for so long."

"What's the plan?"

Van Brandt glanced at his watch and shook his head with annoyance. "It'll be light out in a few hours. We'll have to wait until this evening to get her out of the castle."

"What about Temple's body?"

"The doctor plans to cremate him later this morning." Van Brandt answered. Looking down at Jonny as they walked, Van Brandt gave him a serious stare. "The priority is getting Anaya out safely. Do not speak to anyone else about this, not even your friend back in the operations center. Meet me in my quarters this evening after dinner."

"Okay." Jonny agreed. Without another word, Van Brandt peeled away, heading down one of the side halls towards his own room.

Jonny's heart felt like it was going to explode. There was so much tension floating around the castle that Jonny knew it was only a matter of time before the board members imploded upon each other.

He had no idea how he was going to sleep, but the moment he was back in his own room, he flopped down onto the bed, not even bothering to strip out of his clothes. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

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To Race it felt like an eternity had passed before he heard the Czech team leader's voice in his ear, _"In position."_

"Finally." Race pushed himself off the ground. In reality, the Commandos had scaled the wall rather quickly and Race once again said a silent thank you to Alena and for calling in the team.

Glancing across the road, his eyes blinking against the green glow of the night vision goggles, Race watched Phil push himself up and signal to his team. Race did the same.

Silently they made their way to the edge of the wall. Race pressed his shoulder against the cold stone and waited for Jade to detach the grappling hook device from the back of his vest. When she was done, he turned and did the same for her then watched as the Roberts and Velk did the same.

Flanking the other side of the wooden gate, Race saw Phil and his team preparing their hooks. Twisting his arm, he looked at the heart beat monitor strapped to his forearm. The device indicated the positions of his team as well as Phil's. It also had enough range to reach the top of the wall. Race waited for the sentries to make their sweep. According to Dugger, the guards atop the wall would not pass their location again for another five to seven minutes. Plenty of time for them to scale the face of the slick stone fortification. Kulhanek's team was doing the same.

From here on out, they'd only communicate verbally between teams if absolutely necessary. Looking back at the edge of the wood line, Race motioned towards Benton to stay low and out of sight. Benton and Reynolds both wore NVGs and Race saw both men nod and disappear silently behind a tight cropping of trees, Hadji clinging close to his father's side. They'd be cold, but Race hoped they wouldn't be out there very long.

When the heart beat monitor showed the sentries moving away, Race glanced back at Phil and gave his friend the signal to move.

Stepping back, grappling hooks shot silently from their launchers to snag the parapets at the top of the wall. When Race saw his team members start to climb, he glanced in Phil's direction on last time, saw Corbin's team, that included Jessie, were already climbing, Race grasped the rope, planted his feet and hauled himself up the thick rope.

 _Here we come, Jonny. Here we fucking come._

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Phil grasped the edge of the wall with one hand, mindful of the slick snow that blanketed the ancient stone, and pulled himself upward just enough to swing his legs over the edge. Boots back on solid ground, he reached over the wall and grasped Jessie's forearm, pulling his goddaughter up and over. The moment she was next to him, he knelt down and unslung his rifle from his back. Jessie did the same. Dugger and Altine were over the wall seconds later and scooting up next to him and the redhead.

The design of the wall prevented Phil from seeing Race's team since the gate's supports rose higher than the walkway of the wall. But he didn't need to see Bannon. He knew the other man and his team were on top of the wall and moving off in their direction. His heart beat monitor told him as much.

When his team was ready, Phil waved his hand forward, motioning for them to get moving. Standing up a little, he still hunched over as he tucked the butt of the rifle into his shoulder, keeping it up and at the ready, able to fire at a moment's notice. His team fell in line behind him; Jessie, Altine, then Dugger.

Legs burning from the climb, Phil snarled when he saw a guard heading in their direction, his head visible over the low interior retaining wall. The man would make the turn down their way within seconds.

 _They shouldn't be back so soon._ He thought. Waving his team to a halt, he crouched down and pressed himself against the edge of the walkway.

The sentry wasn't wearing any night vision devices, but he was carrying an AK-47, slung over his shoulder, barrel facing the sky. Phil still had the element of surprise. Slinging his rifle, he moved to the exterior wall and waited. Concealed in the darkness, the guard didn't see Phil until he was almost past him. Corbin sprang from his hiding spot.

Clamping a hand over the man's mouth, preventing him from screaming out and raising an alarm, Phil pulled the man back and down. The guard was lighter than Phil and not as strong, making it easy for Corbin to overpower him. But to his credit, the guard struggled. With one hand he tried to free his mouth and when he couldn't, he reached for his belt. Phil had no choice. Corbin rotated, then wrapped his other arm around the man's neck and twisted. The guard's neck snapped and his body went limp. Still holding the dead man, Phil pulled him back and towards the rest of his team. The problem was there wasn't anywhere to hide the body completely, forcing Phil to place the dead man into the farthest corner of the wall. Eventually, he'd be found so they had to move quickly.

When the body was concealed as best as possible, Phil got his rifle back into position, motioned for his team to move out and started back along the path, heading for the stairs that would take them down to the courtyard. A quick glance at Jessie told him that the girl was keeping her nerves in check.

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Jessie exhaled as she watched her godfather and Agent Dugger conceal the body of the man Phil had just dispatched. For Jessie, it had felt like ages since her flight across Europe with Corbin. So much had happened since then; Jessie's final test in Scotland, their trip to The Hague to confront the Russian prisoner Yasimov, the train hitman, the chase in Nuremburg that resulted in Phil being stabbed, her impromptu covert op to meet Colonel Martinek, the ball in Munich where Lucius Kreed had held her mother hostage before his own demise, Germany, Mogadishu, her father almost dying…so much. Too much.

And now more. But this was it. They were at The Consortium's hideout and if Jessie had thought they'd be able to just walk in and rescue Jonny without a fight, the dead sentry quickly reminded her that the fight wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

 _You're a Bannon._ She told herself when Corbin looked down at her from behind his NVGs for a brief moment before they started to move again. _You're a Bannon and Bannon's fight through to the end. No matter what. Hang in there, Hotshot. We're here. We're here for you._

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Race kept his team moving at a steady pace, glancing every now and again at the heart beat monitor on his arm. The sentry was still moving away from them, much to Race's relief. Reaching the stone steps that led down into the courtyard, Race kept his eyes forward as he turned and descended the slippery stairs. He felt Jade's hand on his back, ensuring they stayed close and tight. Roberts and Velk were doing the same and when they reached the muddy expanse of the desolate courtyard each team member tapped the one in front so Race knew they were all there and ready without having to look back.

Across the way, he watched Phil's team as they climbed down the stairs then crouch down behind a parked flatbed truck.

Race guided his team to a stack of hard plastic crates. Peering at the long boxes, he frowned when he read the stencil markings on the outside of the containers. According to the markings, the crates contained stinger missiles and shoulder firing launch tubes. From a quick count Race determined The Consortium had enough stingers right here to shoot down a Battalion's worth of helicopters.

 _They are planning to start a fucking war._ Race grimaced to himself. But he couldn't think of that right now. His mission was to find and secure Jonny, the rest they'd deal with after that task was complete.

Two buildings occupied the far end of the courtyard. The larger of the two and the one on the side of the courtyard Race's team was on was the original castle. Looming high in the dark, with random lights flickering in some of the windows, the giant behemoth was a dreadful sight. Race couldn't help but wonder what invading armies of days long gone thought when they laid eyes upon the fortress.

A smaller, more modern building was off to the side of the castle, tucked back into the corner. That was the destination of Phil's team. The Consortium had taken time to modernize their hideout and Race assumed that the building was where the biological weapons were being created and stored. Without blueprints or imagery, they were going in blind, but Race and Phil agreed that there could be more facilities underground. Many old castles had escape tunnels beneath the ground and it was possible The Consortium had built upon those when constructing its lab.

With a nod back to his team, Race held up his hand, fingers stretched, then started counting down. When he balled his hand into a fist, he popped up and started to cross the courtyard towards the ghostly castle and its large wooden doors.

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The hour was late. With a yawn, Julia rose from her seat at the conference table, intent on getting some sleep. She wasn't happy with the direction Doctor Zin appeared to be taking The Consortium, but at the moment she didn't have the energy to argue. Perhaps once Van Brandt and the Quest brat left on the next assignment, she'd have a chance to make her move against the Zin clan.

Rising, Julia stifled another yawn and pushed back from the conference table, drawing Melana's attention. "Where are you going?"

"To bed." Julia responded with a sneer. "There's nothing more I can do tonight. Rage is in his lab, Van Brandt and Jonny have already retired, so I'm going to do the same."

The edge of Melana's lips curled up in an amused grin. "Very well."

Julia's associates were not the type of people that generally wished each other 'goodnight' so when Melana went back to her conversation with her father, Julia headed towards the door.

Strolling by one of the large windows that overlooked the castle's courtyard, movement caught Julia's eye. Pausing, she positioned herself at the edge of the pane and peered out into the darkness, her vision partially degraded due to the contrast of the lighting inside versus the low illumination in the courtyard. Just when she was convinced that her tired mind had conjured up the shadowy motions, Julia saw it again. Leaning closer to the window, she could feel the coldness of the glass as he eyes followed the darkened figures.

 _Shit._ Julia grumbled to herself.

Looking back in the direction of the conference table, Julia saw the Zins were still conversing. Turning her head back towards the window, she watched the figures. These weren't members of the Consortium. These figures were moving with stealth; ensuring they remained concealed. It was only by pure luck that Julia had seen them at all.

Turning back towards the other board members, Julia cleared her throat to announce, "We have a problem."

"What is it?" Doctor Zin asked. A perturbed look on his face. Zin was never one that took kindly to being interrupted.

Julia jerked her head at the window as she walked back towards the table. "Looks like we've got intruders. My guess, Intelligence One found us."

"What?" Zin exclaimed. "Impossible!"

"We should sound the alarms." Melana suggested.

"No," Julia shouted before any of the minions could react. "We sound the alarms and that will alert them. I'll take a small crew, set up an ambush and eliminate them as they come into the castle. Call Rage, let him know so he can be ready too."

Zin nodded, "Yes, agreed. However," He paused then glanced at his daughter. "Prepare the countdown, just in case."

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"In position." Race whispered into his mike. They'd met no resistance as they made their way to the castle doors, however he now had to avoid detection as he infiltrated the castle.

 _This has been too easy_. Race couldn't help but notice, but he had no choice. Jonny was somewhere inside and he had to find him. There were no other options.

With a wave, Race called Velk forward. When the younger man was next to him, Race motioned his intentions. With a nod, Agent Velk stepped around and checked the door for signs of traps. When he found none, he nodded and stepped back. Race took a cautious step forward and grasped the large, wrought iron handle of the door closest to him. Leaning into it with his shoulder, Race kept his rifle raised with one hand and slowly pushed the heavy obstacle inward. Velk crouched and keeping his weapon raised, sweeping passed Race's knees to peer into the entryway.

Race exhaled; relieved the old, weighty door didn't creak. Moving silently Race and Velk broke the plane of the threshold together; Velk low and Race high. Sweeping inside, Velk moved off to one side, making way for Race, Jade, and Roberts to follow.

The entryway was vast and poorly lit, but enough light was present to force Race and the rest of his team to flip their NVGs up from their eyes. The Consortium's medieval hideout was impressive and if Race hadn't been leading a team on a potentially deadly mission, he might have been able to appreciate the ancient beauty the castle had to offer. A large staircase was set into the back of the foyer, elegantly polished stone steps led upward to a second level and walkways circled the entry and branched off deeper into the depth of the fortress.

Again, Race wanted to appreciate the beauty of the place, but instead all he saw was potential ambush points. Most of the upper level was shrouded in shadows and Race knew he had to get his team moving.

Stepping forward he caught a tiny glimpse of movement from the balcony. A trick of the light? Or potential threats?

Leaning down, Race whispered in Velk's ear. "Don't look, but I think we're being watched. Be ready. Follow my lead."

Velk didn't make a move to acknowledge Race's statement, but he knew the young agent heard him. With a look back at Jade and Roberts, Race flicked his eyes upward. Again, neither Jade nor Roberts made a physical move of response, but the look in their eyes told Race they both understood his meaning.

With a tap on Velk's shoulder, Race moved around the man and led the team along the wall, keeping out of the central and open area of the ground level. To Race's dismay, he saw very little cover and concealment, so he had to rely on the shadows to keep their movements hidden from potential adversaries; adversaries that, with the exception of the guards on the exterior wall, had yet to reveal themselves, yet possibly lurked in the shadows overhead.

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"Wait till I give the signal." Julia sneered.

Perched along the upper level of the castle's entryway, Julia crouched in the shadows along with a group of The Consortium's best gunmen. She held back her own urge to open fire on the intruders the moment they breached the doorway. She was also somewhat surprised to see Race Bannon leading the group, especially after Van Brandt and Jonny had reported Bannon's demise in Africa.

 _That's what we get for relying on a boy like Quest._ Julia huffed to herself. _No matter. Now I can eliminate Bannon myself. Make him pay for the pain and suffering he put Jeremiah through._

"Let them get a little further into the open. I don't want them having any chance of escape." Julia told the lead man, her thoughts back on the current dilemma.

"We will follow your lead." The man whispered in response.

Staring down at the unsuspecting agents, Julia's eyes were cold, hard. The longer her gaze lingered on Bannon, the more her hatred grew. When it appeared the stealthy agents were in an open position, Julia gritted her teeth and growled, "The one in the lead is mine. Kill the others."

Popping up to her feet, the enraged woman took aim on Bannon and opened fire.

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Stacked up against the exterior wall of the newer out-building, Phil waited for Kulhanek and his men. Within a few minutes the Czech Commandos rounded the wall and approached. Kulhanek came forward and leaned his head down next to Phil.

Speaking at barely above a whisper, Phil issued the rest of the orders, "Move your men out. Sweep and clear. Only break radio silence to report an emergency or if all hell breaks loose. Got it."

"Ano." Kulhanek affirmed then nodded to his men. Seconds later they disappeared back in the direction they had come.

When Phil heard the report that Bannon's team was in position, Phil waved Dugger forward and signaled for the big man to get behind him. Phil's plan was to breach first, yet he wasn't going to leave Jessie directly behind him to take any stray flak should they be met with resistance immediately upon entry. Agent Altine took up Dugger's position in the rear of the formation.

In one fluid motion, Phil gripped the door handle, pushed the door open and entered, stepping into near darkness.

Aided by his NVGs, Corbin moved swiftly along the wall, keeping his weapon raised and ready as the rest of his team entered. Keeping along the wall, Phil waited till Altine closed the door and he felt Dugger tap his shoulder, indicating they were ready.

The area they found themselves in was nothing more than an open landing with a metal catwalk running along all four walls. The I-1 team had been correct in their assessment, this building had been designed and partially built beneath ground level. Glancing over the railing, it appeared that the building's bottom floor was at least two to three levels down. Faint noises of machinery drifted upward from the depths.

Stairs led both up and down and in order to clear the building quickly, Phil dreaded what he had to do. He had to split his team up.

Corbin motioned for Dugger and Altine to head towards the stairs that led downward into the bowels of the structure. With a wave he signaled Jessie to stick with him. As much as he trusted Dugger and Altine with his life, he wasn't going to leave Jessie. And he knew the young Bannon could hold her own, she'd already proven her grit countless times over.

Dugger and Altine peeled off and Phil headed forward, moving down the catwalk where a set of metal stairs led up to the next landing. When they reached the stairs, Phil swung his weapon, keeping the stairs in view the entire time as he sliced around the dangerous corner.

A door opened off to the left. Swinging back around, Corbin growled when Ezekiel Rage emerged from behind the door. Made all the more menacing by the green tint of the NVGs, Rage's body was cloaked in the backlight from the room he'd just exited. He took a step onto the metal catwalk and stared directly at Corbin from behind his gruesome death mask, letting the door behind him shut on its own with an audible clank.

Phil heard Jessie gasp. Instinctually, he stepped in a manner that blocked Jessie from Rage's path. Phil knew from Race that Ezekiel Rage, in his demented state, mistook Jessie for his own deceased daughter, Karla.

"Grimm." Phil growled, mumbling the man's given name. He tightened his rifle into the pocket of his shoulder.

"Corbin? Is that you, old friend?" Rage laughed as he took another step forward.

"Get your hands up where I can see them, Grimm." Phil ordered, not daring to take his eyes off of the maniac.

Rage cocked his head to the side, an evil grin appearing beneath the lip of his mask. Phil watched as his onetime friend and ally took another meaningful step forward.

"I swear to God, you take one more step and I'll shoot you dead, Argus." Phil shouted.

"I should have killed you back in Afghanistan myself, Corbin." Rage spat.

Phil felt Jessie behind him, "Stay back, Jessie." He growled.

Rage must have heard because he cocked his head again, his expression softening. "Karla? Baby?"

"Don't answer him." Phil warned.

"Kill him." Jessie shouted from behind.

"Karla!" Rage exclaimed. "Get away from that man, Karla!"

"Last warning, Grimm." Phil spat. "Get down on your knees now!"

"Get away from my daughter!" Rage shouted. In a flash, Rage rammed his human hand against his own thigh, activating the flare he'd been concealing within his grasp.

Phil shouted and turned his head as the bright light flared through his NVGs, temporarily blinding him. In a heartbeat, Rage advanced forward.

Phil was forced to let go of the fore-grip of his rifle in order to flip the NVGs up on the mount on his helmet so he could see. By the time he'd recovered, Rage was on him.

Rage grasped the barrel of Phil's rifle and wrenched it upward, jerking Phil's arm that still held the weapon. Crying out from the sudden burst of pain to his shoulder joint, Phil staggered as Rage effortlessly used his leverage to toss Phil aside, ripping the weapon from its quick release strap and tossing it aside. He had a clear a path straight to Jessie.

"Jess, run." Phil managed to shout through the pain as Rage threw him against the wall.

Seeing the deranged man moving towards Bannon's daughter sparked a fire in Corbin's belly. Scrambling back to his feet, Phil lunged at Rage's back, wrapping the man up and using his momentum to send them both crashing to the catwalk's grates.

"Get off of me." Rage growled. Phil felt the larger man twisting beneath him. Rolling to the side, Phil managed to hook Rage's arm in an attempt to secure his wrist.

Rage shrugged him off and stood. Phil was back on his feet, sidestepping Rage in order to place himself between Jessie and the lunatic once again.

With a sneer, Rage grabbed onto the catwalk railing with his mechanical hand. The metal twisted, creaked and snapped and Phil watched with astonishment as Rage pulled a large piece of the metal free, creating a makeshift weapon. Tossing the pipe into his human hand, Rage laughed.

"Now you shall pay for all your crimes, Corbin. You hurt my beautiful Karla. Corrupted her." Turning to look at Jessie, Rage smiled, "Don't worry, sweetie, daddy is here to protect you."

Phil growled as Jessie shrunk back. Moving forward, Corbin risked pulling his knife instead of his sidearm, he didn't want to chance a stray round hitting Jessie. Closing the distance, Phil came in low towards Rage's torso. Rage pivoted from the attack and brought the metal pipe down in a wicked arc. Jessie screamed as Phil turned at the last second. The pipe missed his head, but smacked against the top of his shoulder.

Grimacing, Phil refused to let the pain overtake him and he held on to his combat knife, ramming it into Rage's leg. Rage howled, but didn't fall. Instead, he swung the pipe again as Phil tried to stand and connected with the side of Phil's torso.

Reacting on instinct, Phil took the blow in the side of his vest, then wrapped his arm down and around Rage's arm, immobilizing the man's human arm and the weapon he held.

"Give it up, Grimm." Phil spat then rammed the lip of his helmet into Rage's face. The resulting crack echoed off the walls and Phil's head rattled under his protective helmet.

Rage staggered, but Phil held on and rammed his head into Rage's face a second time. He could hear shouts and boots thudding along the catwalk and only hoped it was Dugger and Altine coming to save Jessie and not Rage's devoted followers.

When Phil cocked his head a third time, Rage lashed out and wrapped his mechanical hand on the underside of Phil's chin, pushing his head backwards.

Spot immediately filled his vision and Phil thought his neck would snap at any moment. Rage snarled as he pushed harder and started to lift Phil off his feet.

"The book of Rage demands your death." Rage spat.

"Jess," Phil grunted as Rage's grip tightened. "Get. Out. Of. Here."

"Now you shall die." Rage pivoted and pushed Phil against the damaged railing of the catwalk. It groaned and bucked. "So it is written in the book of Rage."

"Fuck you and your book." Phil snarled, his spittle hitting Rage in the man's mask.

"Die!" Rage hollered and lifted Phil higher, pushing him over the edge of the catwalk.

Phil reached out and grabbed the lapel of Rage's trench coat.

"NO!" Rage shouted as Phil purposefully jerked backwards.

"This is for our friends you killed, you son of a bitch." Phil growled then leaned back and plummeted into the darkness, taking Ezekiel Rage with him.

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When Julia revealed herself, rifle in hand, Race was ready. With a vicious growl, Race raised his rifle and fired at the exact same moment Surd's lackey did the same.

"Take them out!" Race hollered over the roar of the gunfire. "Move! Find some cover!"

Scrambling, Race kept firing, forcing his enemy back down behind the stone railings of the balcony. Race made his way to a large, oak table as Roberts joined him at his side. The two men worked in tandem to flip the table onto its side, creating temporary cover.

"Any idea how many are up there?" Roberts asked as they crouched down behind the table just as more bullets were sent their way.

"At least eight based on the initial muzzle flashes I saw." Race replied while reloading his rifle.

"Even odds then." Roberts smirked.

"Yeah," Race chuckled, "Enjoying being a field agent yet, pal?"

"Hating every minute of it." Roberts answered with a smirk. "But don't tell Karla that."

"Secrets safe with me."

Looking around, Race saw Jade and Velk hunkered down behind an antique cabinet that was currently getting torn to shreds by the gunfire raining down on them.

Waving his hand, Race grabbed their attention then signaled his intentions.

Waiting, Race steadied his breathing and when there was a lull in the gunfire, he shot Roberts a wide grin, "Cover me, partner."

"You're fucking insane, Bannon." Roberts laughed as he popped up into a half crouch, swung his rifle over the top of the table and started firing in time with Velk and Jade.

 _Gotta be a little insane to do this job._ Race mused to himself as he scampered out from behind the table and ran full throttle towards the grand staircase.

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"No!" Jessie cried as Corbin and Rage disappeared over the catwalk, plunging into the darkness below.

Gunfire from above suddenly erupted. Jessie was forced back against the wall in order to avoid the hail of bullets.

"Jessie!"

She heard her name and saw the big Cajun and Altine running towards her.

Dugger raised his rifle and fired at the gunmen who must have been waiting for a clear shot on the team and after seeing their leader's demise had decided to open fire.

Jessie pulled her pistol and fired up into the darkness as Dugger and Altine arrived. Pushing in front of her, Dugger shielded her from the gunfire, using his body to protect her.

"Come on, Jessie!" Altine shouted as she too fired upward. "We have to get out of here."

"We have to get to Phil." Jessie protested.

"You two get out of here," Dugger growled. "I'll get Corbin."

Slinking back the way they'd come, the trio continued to fire upward into the darkness. Eventually the gunfire ceased. Reaching the door they'd first entered, Jessie attempted to steady her breathing, but her entire body was shaking and she was unable to stop it.

Agent Dugger knelt down in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Go find your daddy."

Jessie looked the big Cajun in the eyes. The man's jaw was set firm and even in the low lighting Jessie could see the anger on the man's face, in his eyes. Jessie breathed, her nerves finally subsiding. "What about Phil? No one could survive…" She didn't want to finish the sentence, as if completing it would confirm her godfather's death.

"I'll get Phil," Dugger growled with a look towards the edge of the catwalk. "Don't worry, Baby Bannon, one way or another, I'll get him."

Jessie nodded again. When Dugger stood, Jessie listened. Dugger keyed his mike and broke radio silence, "Bravo Team, this is Alpha Team. Corbin's down. Over."

Jessie heard her father's reply in her own earpiece, " _Roger, Alpha Team. We've got contact here too. Over."_

Jessie breathed a sigh of relief when she heard her father's voice, but the message itself scared her.

"I'm sending Altine and Jessie your way." Dugger stated. "I'm going after Phil. Out."

Jessie saw the big man nod towards Agent Altine, "Go."

Jessie's eyes followed the Cajun's back as he ran for the stairs that would take him down into the depths of the building.

"Come on, Jessie," Altine stated, nudging the redhead to get her moving. "We've got to get moving."

With a nod, Jessie stole once last glance at the I-1 Agent, watching him descend down the stairs. A moment later he was gone from her sight.

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Melana Zin made her way past the gaggles of members of The Consortium. The younger members, not the gunmen, had confused and frightened looks upon their faces as they hurried along the corridors, looking for places to hide.

With a sneer, the daughter of Zin stopped and snapped at a small group of about six of the workers, "Get a rifle and fight, you cowards!"

When the small group did nothing but stare back with wide-eyed fright, Melana snarled and continued on her path. "I don't have time for these fools." She mumbled aloud.

Pushing through a set of doors, she made her way down into the depths of the castle, intent on carrying out her father's last command. "Let I-1 come. It matters naught. None of them will leave this place alive." She laughed manically to herself.

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Jonny heard muffled shouts and hurried steps of people out in the hallway. Pushing himself up, he threw the covers off his legs and hopped out of bed. A quick glance at the window let him know that it was still dark outside, but something was obviously going on. Dressing quickly, Jonny reached for his pistol on the nightstand when the door to his room burst open.

Spinning, Jonny raised the pistol, but stopped when Van Brandt strode forward.

"We're under attack." The Brit reported.

"What's going on?" Jonny questioned as he lowered the pistol.

"I haven't the bloodiest clue at the moment." Van Brandt stated.

Attaching his holster to his belt, Jonny secured his handgun as Van Brandt came forward and handed the teen an AK-47. The British man had been carrying two.

"Come on," Van Brandt ordered. "We can use this as our opportunity to get Anaya out through one of the secret tunnels."

Jonny fell in step with the biochemist. "What about the intruders?"

"Like I said, I have no idea who they are, but if I were to guess I'd say Intelligence One has found us." Van Brandt leaned out the doorway for a moment then stepped back as a group of The Consortium's gunmen ran by, ignoring the Englishman and Jonny completely.

"How?" Jonny asked while checking to ensure his weapon had a fully loaded magazine.

"That doesn't matter," Van Brandt stated and stepped out into the hallway the moment the other men were gone. "Just follow me. If anyone gets in our way, eliminate them."

"Gladly." Jonny sneered.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

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Benton strained to hear more clearly. "What's going on in there?" Benton had heard both Race and Agent Dugger's reports and from the sounds bleeding from the darkness beyond the wall, Benton knew the team's had been discovered and were currently under attack.

"Sir," Agent Reynolds started.

"I'm not waiting out here any longer. Hadji, stay here with Agent Reynolds." Benton sprang to his feet and was moving towards the large wooden doors set into the wall, not waiting for a response.

"Doctor Quest, come back." Reynolds shouted from behind.

Benton didn't turn or even acknowledge the I-1 agent's request. But when he reached the towering doors, he saw the other man and Hadji coming up just a few steps behind him.

"I told you to stay back." Benton said with a stern look.

"Sorry, Sir," Reynolds replied. "I take my orders from Director Corbin. And those orders were to stay with you and Hadji."

"And of course I'm coming with you, father," Hadji threw in. "They need our help."

"Alright," Benton nodded, smiling a little at the two men. "Now, how do we get inside?"

Reynolds motioned for Benton to step away from the center where the two large doors met. Pushing against the solid wood with his shoulder, Reynolds confirmed what Benton already assumed; the massive doors were sealed shut from the inside, probably by a cross beam or some other bracing device.

"We can climb like the others did." Hadji suggested, jerking his head towards the wall.

"No time for that." Benton responded. "Agent Reynolds?"

"Well, it's not like surprise matters anymore." Reynolds replied. Kneeling down, he shrugged his assault pack off his back. Setting it down on the ground, he dug through the inside and pulled out a block of C4, tape and blasting caps.

Benton watched as the agent stuck the plastic explosive to the door, securing the block with the tape, then push the blasting caps into it. Once in place, Reynolds retrieved the detonation switch, attached the blasting cap leads to the handheld device, and looked back at Benton and Hadji.

"Move back behind the edge of the wall," Reynolds ordered, leading them around the stone column that jutted out from the face of the wall.

When they were all safely behind the protection, Reynolds motioned for Benton and Hadji to cover their ears then flipped the detonator switch.

The C4 exploded, blowing up the entrance door in an explosion of heat, fire, smoke and smoldering wood.

Dropping the switch, Reynolds raised his rifle and nodded, "Follow me."

Benton said a silent thanks for the professionalism and skills of the agents employed by Intelligence One, then pushed Hadji in between himself and Agent Reynolds. "Come on, son, let's go get Jonny."

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Race took the stairs two at a time, bolting ahead of a volley of bullets that were directed towards him. Reaching the top landing, he dove, tucking his body into a tight roll. Coming up into a crouch, Race raised his rifle and turned towards two gunmen who appeared startled and confused by Race's insane acrobatic feat.

Race didn't wait for them to recover, he fired. The rounds found their marks and the two men dropped. Bounding to his feet, Race saw rest of the gunmen were down, either dead or gravely wounded.

But his main target was still standing. "Why am I not surprised that you're a part of all this, Julia?"

"Bannon," Julia spat, "Why _am I not surprised_ that punk Quest brat didn't finish the job with you?"

"I'm not so easy to kill," Race growled as he took a step forward and lowered his rifle. "Jeremiah learned that the hard way."

"Don't you dare say his name, Bannon." Julia growled.

"Why don't we finish this once and for all?" Race suggested as he unstrapped his rifle and dropped it to the floor. "I've never been one for fighting a woman, but as you've proven time and time again, you're hardly a woman."

"I'll make you regret every decision you've ever made." Julia laughed, "Beginning with the one you just made."

Raising her rifle, Julia aimed it straight at Race's chest and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

"See, that was always one of your problems," Race sneered as he continued moving forward, "You let your emotions take control and you lose focus on everything else. Even from where I'm standing I could see that your bolt was locked back. No ammo."

When Julia turned the rifle in her hands to examine the open and empty chamber, Race pounced. He knew that it would have been easier to just shoot her and be done with the problem, but the nature of his dealings with Julia and Surd over the years made his confrontation personal.

Pumping his fist, Race drove forward, landing a solid punch to Julia's jaw. The woman crumpled and the rifle dropped from her hands.

"Get up." Race growled as he reached down to pick the dazed woman up.

Julia shook her head and latched her hands onto Race's wrists then kicked her legs towards his, tangling him up and sending him crashing to his back as she let go of his wrists.

More caught off guard than hurt by the woman's impromptu move, Race kicked his legs up and out, launching back to his feet. Julia was not as quick, but she did manage to scramble up, using the railing of the landing for support.

"Surrender and tell me where Jonny is and I'll make sure you avoid the death penalty for your crimes." Race offered.

Julia snorted in disgust. "Like I'm going to believe anything you say."

"Fine. Have it your way." Race cocked his head then moved back in to finish the woman off.

Raising his fists, Race closed on the woman again. Swinging, he smacked her in the jaw, then followed up with a punch to her mid-section that lifted the woman off her feet. Grabbing a handful of the woman's shirt, Race held onto her and spun her around, slamming Julia against the wall. A rush of air escaped the woman's lips.

"Tell me where Jonny is!" Race yelled in her face.

"Fuck off." Julia growled back. Pressing a hand against his chest, she tried to push him back but Race held firm.

"Wrong answer." He scowled. Pulling her close, Race then pushed her back against the wall one more time, "I'll give you one more chance. Where is he?"

"I'll never tell you shit." Julia laughed.

"I don't have time for your games." Race snarled.

Julia laughed again then drove her knee upward. She connected hard with Race's groin and he let go of her shirt and staggered back. What Race hadn't realized was that Julia had managed to get her hand on his pistol and when he fell, she pulled the weapon free from the holster on his leg.

"Now who's the one not paying attention?" Julia spat when Race fell to his hands and knees.

"You are, you fucking bitch."

"What?" Julia spun and saw Jade standing at the end of the walkway, flanked by two I-1 agents decked out in body armor, helmets, and pointing high powered rifles straight at her.

One hand on her cocked out hip, the other holding a semi-automatic pistol, Jezebel Jade wore a sly grin on her face. Race moaned in pain, but couldn't help smiling a little at the sight of his lover. Her face no longer clouded by worry and guilt, Jade was instead cool and collected. Race watched as Jade took aim on Julia.

"No one kicks my man in the balls and gets away with it." Jade cooed then fired.

Julia, still paralyzed in shock at the sight of the other woman, reeled as Jade's bullet hit her shoulder. She attempted to raise the pistol she'd taken from Race, but Jade fired again and the second round tore into Julia's chest and pierced her heart. Only a faint gasp managed to escape her lips before she went down.

Julia's lifeless body thudded against the floor; Race scooted up into a seated position and cupped his wounded manhood. "Why do women always have to hit us in the balls?" He growled as Jade, Roberts, and Velk came forward.

Jade knelt down next to him and said, "It's the way of the world, baby."

Race huffed a laugh and saw Roberts and Velk exchanging amused grins. Getting to hit feet, Race picked up the handgun Julia had stolen from him and replaced it in his holster. Velk had secured Race's rifle and handed it back him.

Shaking the last remnants of Julia's hit away, Race regained his composure to issue out orders, "We need to split up. This castle is way too big and we're running out of time."

"What about the other teams?" Velk asked, "What about Director Corbin?"

"You can't think about that right now, Matt." Race shook his head. He too was concerned with the report from Dugger, but dwelling on Corbin's fate wasn't going to change whatever had happened. "Right now our mission is to find Jonny. You and Roberts head back to the ground floor to clear it. There was a side door next to the stairs. Sweep and work down. Jade and I will clear this floor and work upward. Remember your orders, Jonny is to be taken alive. If you spot him radio immediately and proceed with caution."

"Yes, Sir." Velk nodded.

"Good luck, Bannon." Roberts stated.

"You too, Sharpshooter." Race grinned at his friend.

"Jeez," Roberts rolled his eyes then jerked his head towards Velk. "Come on, let's get moving."

Race watched the two agents depart then turned to Jade. "Thanks for the backup."

"Any time, handsome." Jade replied smoothly.

"It appears you're back in your element." Race chuckled as he took a moment to reload his rifle.

"Yes," Jade nodded. Race saw her look down at Julia's corpse then back up into his eyes. "I never appreciate another woman putting her mitts all over my man."

"She was trying to kill me, ya know." Race joked as he stepped around the rest of the bodies.

Jade shrugged, "Details."

"Come on," Race nodded forward, "Let's go find Jonny and get this over with."

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Inside the hidden control room, Melana frantically typed in the command codes into the lone computer console. When the final entry was submitted, the edges of Melana's lips curled upward into a sinister sneer.

"No more will the Quests and I-1 meddle in our affairs. Their deaths now will show the world what father has accomplished." She laughed then hit the ENTER key.

The system blinked and the words "ACTIVATE RETRIBUTION FAILSAFE NOW?" appeared in large bold letters.

Melana pressed the ENTER key again and the screen changed again, "RETRIBUTION FAILSAFE ACTIVE. DETONATION SYSTEM ARMED"

With a nod, Melana picked up the remote detonator switch from the table and stowed it away in her pocket.

Swiftly, she exited the tiny room to make her way back to the rendezvous point where her father and sister would be waiting for her.

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Phil opened his eyes. The air around him was filled with dust and stank of wood and blood. Coughing he wiped at his forehead just beneath the lip of his helmet, his glove coming away smeared with blood. His entire body ached. It hurt to breathe. His head swam. He felt like he was going to vomit. He tasted blood and bile in his mouth.

 _Probably a concussion. And some busted ribs. Or else I'm really dead and this is what it feels like_. He thought.

But amazingly Phil wasn't dead. He had no idea how far he'd actually fallen, but he'd landed on a tall pallet of wooden crates; crates that had broken his fall and as a result, his body had cracked and splintered some of the boxes. He'd also lost his rifle when Rage had snagged it from his grasp during their initial fight; and after using his combat knife to try to stop Rage from going after Jessie, all Phil had left was his sidearm.

With a groan, Phil rolled to the edge of the crates and looked down. Swinging his legs over the side, he grasped the edge of the boxes and jumped down. When his boots connected with the concrete floor, a sharp pain shot through his right leg, causing Phil to cry out and collapse. He fought against his body's desire to pass out.

"Fuck." He growled through gritted teeth as he pushed himself up to a seating position and leaned his back against the crates. There was just enough light in the open bay for Phil to examine himself and as his eyes traveled down his body, he saw the cause of his pain. A large shard of splintered wood jutted from the side of his left calf, probably having been lodged there when he'd landed on the crates and broke them.

Breathing in short quick bursts, Phil reached down, grasped the wooden impalement with both hands and pulled. Gritting his teeth, he battled the pain and with one quick and painful tug he withdrew the impaled object from his leg.

Spots filled his eyes. Phil sneered at the bloody item and tossed it aside. Reaching for his vest he searched for his medical supplies, needing to wrap the wound. As he did, he heard rustling off to his left.

Looking up at the last moment, Phil saw Rage burst from the darkness, Phil's own kabar grasped in the madman's hand. Rage must have yanked it from his leg in the same fashion that Phil had removed the impaled wood from his own.

Rolling to the side at the last minute, Corbin avoided the blitz attack and watched as the enraged man stumbled and fell amongst the broken crates. Pain coursed through Phil's body, his sudden movements undoubtedly causing him further injuries.

 _How the hell is he not hurt? Doesn't matter. All that matter is not letting him kill me._ Phil's mind told him as he tried to push himself to his feet.

Before Phil could stand, Rage recovered and kicked the fallen I-1 man in the chin. Phil's head snapped back from the heavy kick, slamming into the wooden crate, his helmet cracked from the force of the blow. He fell back to the floor, flat on his stomach.

"I've waited years to take my revenge upon the Government for what you did to me and my family." Rage cried. "It's time for you to pay for their deaths, Corbin."

"I had nothing to do with what happened, Argus. That was the State Department, not I-1." Phil turned to his side and spit a mouth full of blood to the floor. Reaching up he unclasped the chin strap and pushed the damaged helmet from his head, his hair caked with sweat and blood.

"Does it matter?" Rage's laugh was laced with hate. "Just a different arm sprouting from the same body."

"So you think teaming up with The Consortium is any better?" Phil asked, convinced that if he kept Rage talking, it would give him time to figure a way out of his predicament. But his mind was hazy and he was finding it harder and harder to focus. "They've killed hundreds of innocent people, Argus. Innocent people just like Abby and Karla."

The mention of the names of his wife and child made Rage pause momentarily.

Hand on the crates for support, Phil pushed himself to his feet and watched as something akin to sadness appeared across Rage's scarred face.

"Give up, Argus." Phil pleaded with a wince. "It doesn't have to end this way. I can get you help."

Shaking his head, Rage snapped back to reality. "No!" He growled. "You're trying to manipulate me, Corbin. That's what you do."

"No I'm not," Phil replied. He kept his eyes locked on Rage's disfigured face, refusing to look away as his right hand slowly moved to his leg holster; he only hoped that Rage didn't notice. With his left, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the photo of his family he always carried. Shakily, he held it out for Rage to see. "Let me help you, Argus. You're not a bad man, you did what you had to do for your family. I understand that, believe me, I understand. My wife and daughters, Argus. This is them. See. I have a family too."

"You do?" Rage hesitated.

Phil nodded as his hand curled around his handgun, his finger depressing the quick release button on the holster. He had to concentrate, but it hurt inside his skull to do so. "Yes. So I understand. I'd do anything for them too. Anything. All I want is to get home to see them again. Argus, I'm sorry for what happened to you and your family, but don't do this to mine. Just look at them. Don't do this to them. Please."

Corbin watched as his enemy's posture slackened. Rage still held the combat knife firmly in his grasp, but he reached forward and took the photo. Phil grimaced when he saw the picture had his blood from his gloves smeared across it.

Planting his feet, blocking the pain in his leg from his mind, Phil slowly began to pull his pistol, ready to react to whatever the crazed man decided to do.

Dropping the photo, Rage shook his head. "I've lived with the pain of losing the ones I love." Looking up, he snarled, "Now your family shall know my pain. So it is written in the Book of Rage."

Grimm leapt forward, both his hands gripping the knife firmly in front of him as he threw himself at Phil. Taking a step back, Phil jerked his handgun free, but Rage crashed into him before he could raise it to fire.

The sidearm fell from Phil's hand and clattered across the floor as Rage's knife scrapped against Phil's protective armor. With a grunt, Rage wrapped his arms around Phil's torso, turned and threw Phil against another pallet of crates.

Knowing he could no longer reason with the man, Phil sucked in a breath as he crashed against the floor and immediately started crawling towards his dropped handgun. If he stopped he'd either pass out or Rage would kill him, or more than likely, both. Rage loomed over him, laughing as he watched the gravely wounded agent's desperate movements.

"It is time to end this fiasco." Rage growled and lifted the knife over his head.

"Grimm!"

The shout froze Rage mid arc. Phil continued to scramble, his hand reaching forward for his sidearm.

Shots rang out and Phil heard the rounds impact against Rage's body. The knife dropped from the lunatic's hand just as Phil's own hand curled around his handgun.

Rolling to his back, Phil brought the weapon up, aimed and fired at the man that was already being assaulted from the other direction.

Bullets tore into Rage's body. Blood spewed from the wounds and as Rage sank to his knees, Phil saw Dugger emerge from the shadows, weapon raised and pointed at Rage.

Gurgling blood clogged Rage's throat as he tried to speak. "Abby…Ka…Ka…Kar…"

With one final attempt to save himself, Rage lifted his mechanical hand in Dugger's direction. It was empty, but that no longer mattered. Dugger fired. The round slammed into Rage's forehead and he fell backwards and didn't move again.

Lowering his arms, Phil wanted to just close his eyes and go to sleep now that Rage was dead. With a groan, he attempted to do just that, but felt Dugger come up behind him, grasp the shoulder strap of his body armor and drag him a safe distance away from Rage's body.

"Don't, Phil, don't." Dugger said as he knelt down.

"Just give me a second," Phil groaned.

"No way," Dugger replied and placed a hand on Phil's forehead, forcing Corbin to keep his eyes open. "Stay awake, brother."

With a short nod, Phil forced himself to keep his eyes open.

"Tell me where you're hurt."

"Everywhere." Phil groaned, but pointed at his leg.

Pete went to work. Pulling the cuff of Phil's pants out of his boot, Dugger exposed the wound and quickly wrapped a bandage around Phil's leg. When he tightened it down, Phil cried out.

"Good," Dugger grumbled, "The pain lets you know you're still alive and the pressure will stop the bleeding. Where else?"

"I think I've got some broken ribs."

"That'll have to wait." Dugger responded as he pushed an arm under Phil's back and helped him sit up. "Think you can walk on your own?" Dugger grabbed Phil's arm and wrapped it around his neck, helping him up to his feet.

"I don't know," Phil answered honestly, his teeth pressed together so tightly it hurt his jaw. "But I'll try."

"Come on then," Pete stated. He went to pull Phil up, but Corbin resisted and with his other hand pointed at the ground next to Rage's lifeless body.

"My photo."

Dugger nodded. Leaving Phil seated for just a moment, he went and snatched the bloodied picture from the floor and handed it back to Phil.

"Thanks." Phil said as he attempted to wipe the blood off the faces of his smiling family before jamming the photo back into his pocket. He then picked up his pistol and put it back in his leg holster.

"Of course," Dugger grunted and wrapped Phil up again. When they were both back on their feet, Dugger secured Phil by the back of his belt and guided him towards the stairs, Phil leaning against the bigger man's side as Dugger used his other hand to hold Phil's wrist draped over Pete's shoulder. "Just stay awake, okay? Don't give in to the pain."

When they reached the stairs, Phil raised his head a little and asked, "Where's Jessie and Altine?"

"I sent them to link up with Bannon." Dugger explained, "I didn't want either of them coming down here with me."

Even with his swampy mind, Phil knew what Dugger meant. Pete didn't want them seeing Phil dead.

Leaning against the hand railing, Dugger guided Phil's hand to the railing for support then let go and reached to key his mike. Before he could depress the button, however, red lights began blinking along the walls beneath the catwalk.

"What the hell?" Both men mumbled simultaneously.

Call forgotten, Dugger grabbed Phil again and the two men moved to the closest light. Just as they reached it, the color changed from red to green, as did all the others.

"Holy fuck." Dugger grumbled.

Exchanging concerned looks, they're eyes drifted around the walls, taking in the immense number of lights. They knew the situation had just gotten a whole lot worse.

Heading back to the stairs, Dugger once again leaned Phil against the railing and keyed his mike again, "All stations. Alert. The Consortium has this place wired to explode. There's enough plastic explosives here to blow this place off the face of the fucking earth."

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"We have to go. Now." Van Brandt stated as soon as he entered Anaya's room.

"What's going on?" Anaya asked, her words laced with fear.

"We're under attack." Van Brandt said quickly, motioning for Anaya to come towards him with a wave of his arm. "We can get away, but we have to leave now."

"My things. Temple?" Anaya stuttered as she joined Van Brandt and Jonny at the door.

"Don't worry about any of that. If we don't leave now, we'll never get out." Van Brandt replied with more firmness.

Anaya nodded as Van Brandt removed his handgun and held it out for Anaya to take. "Follow me. We have to move quickly."

"Where are we headed?" Jonny asked as they stepped out into the empty hallway.

Van Brandt spoke as he jogged down the hallway, heading for the stairs. "Down in the lower levels are a number of escape tunnels. We make for the closest one. The tunnels lead away from the castle and open up out in the old monastery outside of the village."

"Then what?" Anaya asked in a hushed tone.

"I'll figure that out once we get there." Van Brandt mumbled.

The rest of the journey was made in silence. Jonny could hear random bursts of gunfire and distant shouts and cries. For a moment he thought of his friend Andrew and hoped the other boy was safe and able to escape. Jonny knew how Intelligence One operated, they'd only shoot at armed and battling opponents, not unarmed noncombatants. Jonny hoped Andrew and the others were smart enough to not pick up a weapon and fight. The Consortium's gunmen were highly skilled, but not everyone in the castle were guards or soldiers, but Jonny also knew that for all the skills the hired thugs possessed, I-1 agents were a thousand times more skilled and disciplined. At the end of the day, The Consortium didn't stand a chance against a full on assault from Intelligence One.

Deep in the cool hallways of the castle's lower levels, Van Brandt led Jonny and Anaya further down a dark, dimly lit hall. "The entrance to the first tunnel is just around the next corner." Van Brandt whispered.

Reaching the intersection, Van Brandt snuck a quick peek then looked back and said, "Follow me."

Jonny had never been in this part of the castle, in fact he didn't even know levels this deep existed. He wondered what The Consortium might be hiding down here.

Van Brandt stopped half way down the hall. Jonny watched as the Englishman ran his hand along the stones, made smooth by centuries of damp condensation.

"How do you know about these tunnels?" Jonny whispered.

"Greg showed them to me." Van Brandt replied and pressed his hand against one of the stones.

To Jonny's amazement, the stone moved easily beneath Van Brandt's hand and further down the hall and on the opposite side, a hidden doorway opened, swinging inward.

"Let's go."

"Stop! What's going on here?"

Turning towards the voice, Jonny sneered as Melana Zin stepped out of the shadows. Van Brandt raised his rifle and blocked Anaya from her sister.

"Don't you dare point that thing at me, David Van Brandt." Melana spat and raised her own weapon. In a flash, she fired the little handgun and Van Brandt spun and dropped to the floor.

Without a second look at the man she'd just shot, Melana turned towards her sister. "Anaya, what is the meaning of this?"

"I'm leaving, sister."

"You cannot abandon the cause," Melana growled.

"Please, Melana, I have to. I have no choice."

Jonny heard Van Brandt moan.

"Why? Why do you say such a thing?"

"Something more important," Anaya stated cryptically.

"Nothing is more important than father's conquest and the goals of The Consortium."

"Anaya, go." Jonny whispered through pursed lips. Slowly, he started to raise his rifle while Melana's attention was completely on her defiant sibling.

"This is more important." Anaya barked back at Melana and gestured towards her stomach. "My child."

"Child?" Melana's face turned upward in a disgusted scowl. "Who's child? What man did you invite into your bed?"

"That's doesn't matter."

"Was it him?" Melana nodded at the prone form of Van Brandt.

"Anaya, you have to go." Jonny whispered again as Melana drew nearer. "She'll kill you."

"No." Anaya answered, but Jonny didn't know if she was speaking to him or Melana.

Melana paused, her brow furrowed as if in thought. Then her eyes widened and she laughed, "It was Temple, wasn't it? That explains your change in attitude upon hearing of his death. You let that American brute fuck you? You disappoint me, sister. Wait until father hears of this transgression."

"He won't here of it." Anaya snarled back. "You wouldn't dare."

"What makes you think I'll let you leave here?" Melana taunted.

Jonny watched as the woman reached into her pocket and pull out a small metal box. In the palm of her hand, Melana showed them the rectangular device with a single blinking red button, covered by a protective shield.

"This place is rigged to blow," Melana laughed. "All I have to do is push this button."

"You'll kill us all." Anaya barked with horror. "You and father included."

"If that is how this must end, so be it."

Melana's thumb twitched as if she was going to flip the cover open. Jonny had heard and seen enough. Raising his rifle quickly, he squeezed the trigger.

"No!" Anaya shouted as Jonny gunned down Melana Zin right before their eyes.

A look of shock spread across the Zin woman's face as Jonny's high powered rounds tore into her. As she fell, Jonny dove forward and snatched the device from her hand before it bounced against the floor, preventing an accidental detonation.

Exhaling a breath of relief, Jonny looked at Melana. The woman was definitely dead, her body riddled with the rounds that Jonny had just unloaded into her. Shaking his head, he turned back and saw Anaya staring at the scene with wide eyed horror.

"Anaya, she was going to kill you. Kill all of us." Jonny stated. Jamming the device into his pocket, he knelt down and checked on Van Brandt.

The Englishman was alive, Melana's shot having gone straight through his upper shoulder and arm. Helping the man up, Jonny pulled Van Brandt's shirt out of his pants and up over his head, not caring about the pain he was causing. The pain wouldn't matter if Van Brandt bled to death. He ripped three strips off the bottom. Pressing the makeshift bandages to Van Brandt's gunshot wound, Jonny used the last strip to secure the other two bandages in place by wrapping the third one around and under Van Brandt's armpit.

"This will have to do for now." Jonny shoved the rest of the man's shirt into the Englishman's hands and helped him stand.

Van Brandt tucked the shirt into the back of his pants then picked up his rifle. "Thanks, Jonny. Now we have to move."

Jonny nodded and looked at Anaya, "Anaya, I'm sorry about your sister, but she wasn't going to let you leave. You know that. She'd have killed you and your baby."

Slowly, Anaya nodded. Jonny held his breath as the woman blinked a number of times and finally looked away from her sister's body. Realization of the situation was back in Anaya's eyes and she simply replied, "I know."

"Now you have to go." Jonny stated, giving the woman a gentle nudge towards the secret passageway.

Van Brandt took Anaya's elbow and guided her along and when they reached the entrance, he stopped when the teen took a step back.

"Jonny?" Van Brandt questioned.

Jonny shook his head. "I have to deactivate the bomb. There's people here that don't deserve to die."

"You have the detonator."

"One that we know of. We can't be sure Doctor Zin or any of the others don't have one too." Jonny explained.

"What about I-1?" Anaya asked.

Jonny smirked, "I'm not concerned with them at the moment. I took out Race Bannon. He was the best. Any other I-1 agents will be easy pickings if they get in my way."

Jonny waited till Van Brandt pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and flicked it on.

"I'll close the door behind you." Jonny told the Englishman.

Van Brandt shook his head. "There's a lever in here. I'll close it."

"Good luck. Now get out of here." Jonny said, not wanting to waste any more time.

Van Brandt and Anaya nodded. Jonny turned to go when Van Brandt called back to him, "Hey, Jonny,"

Jonny looked back over his shoulder, "Yeah?"

"Temple would be proud of you." Van Brandt said. "Continue to make him proud."

Jonny couldn't help but smile. "I will."

With that, the two members of The Consortium disappeared into the tunnel. Seconds later the door swung shut.

Without looking at Melana, Jonny hurried back down the way they'd come. He'd stop the detonation, but first he'd ensure that the intruders were all dead. It wouldn't do any good to stop the explosion if I-1 was still around to arrest him, or worse, kill him. And he'd take care of Doctor Zin as well.

Jonny picked up his pace, running for the stairs that would take him back up and out into the courtyard.

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Rounding the next corner, Roberts heard voices coming from a room towards the end of the passage. With a nod, he indicated to Velk to proceed with caution as they approached.

Coming up to the doors, Roberts listened for a moment before pushing inside, Velk right on his heels.

Huddled together was a large group of frightened young men and women. None appeared armed. Looking around the room, Roberts could tell it was some sort of recreation or common room due to the furniture, large televisions, pool tables and kitchenette area.

 _The Consortium provides recreational entertainment for those it kidnaps_? Roberts shook his head.

As he and Velk stepped forward, the group shrunk back, obviously scared of the armed men. A quick count told Roberts there were at least two dozen, if not more, people here most of which appeared to be close in age to Jonny and Jessie.

Lowering his rifle slightly, Roberts waved at Velk to do the same.

"Who's in charge here?" Roberts asked to no one in particular.

When no one answered, he frowned and asked, "Are any of you armed?"

When he asked that question, he could heard Velk tightening his grip on his rifle, the younger man's tight gloves causing a slight stretching sound against the weapon's grip.

"No." A young man answered. "They don't give us weapons. We only work on the systems. We're not foot soldiers."

"Alright," Roberts gave Velk a nod, letting the other man know to stay alert. "We're going to get you all out of here safely, but you have to do as we say and move quickly." Looking at the one who spoke, Roberts asked, "What's your name, son?"

"Andrew." The young man replied.

"Okay, Andrew, is this everyone?"

When the boy nodded, Roberts keyed his mike, "All, this is Bravo Team Tango, we've got at least two dozen noncombatants here. Young. We'll make our way out to the courtyard for immediate evacuation."

Race's voice answered almost immediately. _"Roger. Any sign of the target?"_

Roberts did another quick glance at the kids. He didn't see Jonny at all. Velk shook his head, he didn't see the Quest teen either.

"Negative. He's not with this group."

" _Understood. Get those kids out of there, Terry. Consolidate in the courtyard. Find a vehicle to use to get them off the grounds."_

"Wilco." Roberts replied.

With a jerk of his head, he looked at the group. "Stay close and follow me." Looking at his partner, Roberts said, "Bring up the rear. No stragglers and no one wanders off."

Roberts didn't have to remind the other agent about Dugger's report in regards to the explosives. Velk nodded and stepped aside so the group could start moving.

When they were ready, Roberts did a quick check of the hallway then headed out, leading the group of terrified boys and girls towards safety.

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Race peeled around the corner and was met with a hail of bullets. Diving back, he narrowly avoided being gunned down by the two men that had been lying in wait.

"Damnit," Race growled. "Two goons at the end of the hall."

Jade nodded. "Plan?"

"You go high and I'll go low." Race stated then dropped down to his stomach.

"Fun times once again." Jade laughed a little then peered around the corner.

The men fired again, but Race was ready and as soon as Jade ducked back, he leaned out and fired. His rounds hit the first enemy and the man collapsed and dropped his weapon. His partner didn't even look at his downed compatriot.

A flash behind the man drew Race's attention. Emerging from a door behind the dead man was Jonny.

"Jonny." Race inhaled sharply.

Race was forced back behind the wall when Jonny opened fire in time with the other man.

"Fuck." Race growled. Looking up at Jade, he asked, "Did you see him?"

"Yeah," Jade replied with a shake of her head. "What have they done to him?"

Changing out his magazine, Race huffed, "I don't know, but this is had to end."

Leaning back around the edge of the wall, Race stole another quick glance and saw Jonny disappearing through another door behind the remaining gunman.

 _I don't have time for this._ Race spat then stepped out into the hall completely and fired.

The gunman was caught off guard by Race's sudden emergence from behind his cover, but it only lasted a few seconds as Race's rounds tore into the man.

Race was moving forward before the man's body rolled to a stop.

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A grey haze lightened the courtyard as dawn began to creep upon them. Jessie hadn't imagined they'd been inside The Consortium's lair for so long, but the multiple, drawn out gun battles, combined with the overall stress of the situation, were wreaking havoc on her internal clock.

Jessie and Agent Altine had been both surprised and relieved when they'd exited the smaller building to see Benton, Hadji and Agent Reynolds, however the three had been pinned down by a handful of gunmen. The gunmen, probably some of the most devoted of The Consortium's hired thugs, were fighting to the bitter end and were using coordinated movements to close in on Jessie and the others.

Reynolds and Altine fought bitterly, but the overpowering fire from the enemy made it impossible for them to move to a different position.

"What now?" Jessie asked, attempting to hide the fact that her hope was dwindling.

Altine gave her a look, but it wasn't encouraging.

" _Keep your heads down."_ The thick voice of the Czech Commando Kulhanek chimed in their ears at that moment.

Jessie couldn't help but grin when a moment later and explosion rocked through the courtyard. Men screamed and the gunfire turned away from Jessie and the group.

More shots rang out and when Jessie dared to peer over the top of the low stacked crates they were hiding behind, she saw The Consortium gunmen scrambling as the Commandos rounded a corner and assaulted the enemy position.

"Thank god for Alena's soldiers." Benton sighed.

Reynolds popped up and fired, sending a volley of lead towards the remaining men that hadn't been killed immediately by the Commandos' grenades and follow on attack.

One of the Commandos took a hit and fell, but the others continued to advance and within seconds had overrun the enemy position, killing the last of the gunmen in the courtyard.

Still watching the scene, Jessie saw Kulhanek directing his men to continue sweeping while the team leader went to check on his fallen man.

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"Where are the others?" Benton asked when the gunfire finally ceased.

"Somewhere inside." Altine reported grimly.

Just then, the door to the out-building swung open with such force that it banged loudly against the inside wall.

Looking back, the group saw Dugger step out of the threshold with Corbin leaning against his side.

"Phil!" Jessie hollered and the man raised his head a little, much to Jessie's relief.

Reynolds was already moving to assist and taking Phil's other arm, he helped Dugger bring Phil the rest of the way to the group. They set Phil down on the ground with a gentleness that Jessie would have thought to be a foreign concept to a man the size of Peter Dugger.

Benton was kneeling next to the wounded Director. Phil was conscious, but wavering.

Pulling his gloves off, Benton pressed his fingers to the side of Phil's bloody neck, "What happened?"

"He took a nasty fall off a catwalk." Dugger reported. "Surprised he's still alive actually, but Corbin never was one to give in easily."

Jessie took her godfather's hand and squeezed a little. Phil responded with a little squeeze of his own. He looked up and Jessie saw his face was smeared with blood and grime. His eyes were unfocused, but he managed a little smile.

Dugger continued to fill Benton in, "We killed Rage, but the fall and that psycho managed to do quite a number of Corbin. I bandaged his leg, but I think he's got some broken or bruised ribs and definitely a concussion. He's been struggling to stay awake."

Benton nodded. Moving his hand to Phil's shoulder, Benton attempted to draw the man's attention to him. "Phil, its Benton. Can you hear me?"

Phil groaned, "I'm okay, Doctor."

"No, you're not." Benton stated grimly. When Phil made a move to stand, Benton held him down and Dugger did the same on Phil's other shoulder. When Phil stayed put, Benton moved his hand from Phil's shoulder to the side of his face. With his other, Benton held up a finger in front of Phil's eyes. "Follow my finger with just your eyes. Can you do that?"

Benton moved his finger, but Phil was unable to focus and eventually dropped his head forward. Benton kept his hand on the man's face as Dugger placed a hand on the top of Phil's head. Looking at the Cajun, Benton shook his head, "He's definitely got a concussion. The blood in his mouth indicates possible internal injuries. We need to get him to a hospital and soon."

Benton continued his assessment of the wounded Director. When he placed his hand on the side of Corbin's torso, the man responded with an involuntary wince, "His ribs are either broken or very badly bruised. Keep his vest on, it'll provide needed pressure for now."

Dugger nodded. "I'll make sure he doesn't try to take it off."

"Keep him talking." Benton ordered.

Looking around, Benton caught the rest of the group watching him, waiting on him. He suddenly realized they were expecting him to take charge, give some type of orders. Even Hadji and Jessie were staring at him expectantly.

Exhaling, he realized that with Dugger occupied with caring for Corbin and Race still searching the castle, he really was in charge at the moment. Not really sure what to do, he just spoke the first things that came to mind.

"We need to commandeer one of these vehicles in order to get Corbin out of here. Do we know where the closest hospital is located?"

The two agents shook their heads, causing Benton to frown. But Hadji spoke up a moment later, "I was studying the topographical map prior to our departure. If I recall correctly there is a small clinic in the village below the castle. The closest major hospital would probably be in Bratislava."

"The clinic will have to do for now."

"I'll take care of the vehicles." Reynolds offered. "We'll need one to transport the others that Roberts and Velk found as well."

"Thank you." Benton smiled.

Reynolds nodded and moved off towards one of the military style HMMWVs.

Benton watched him go and when he turned back to the others, a shot rang out in the courtyard.

Everyone ducked and Benton watched in horror as Reynolds crumbled to the ground.

"What's the hell?" Dugger yelled.

Rounding the corner of the far wall of the castle were three gunmen. As the rest of the group shrunk down behind their cover, Benton sneered. Behind the gunmen was Doctor Zin.

"Zin." Benton growled.

Benton watched as Zin and his guards made their way towards the closest parked vehicle.

"Son of a bitch." Dugger shouted. Still kneeling next to his wounded comrade, the Cajun hefted his rifle and started shooting.

Benton watched as Altine did the same.

Two gunmen dropped from the onslaught, but the third and Zin continued moving, the remaining guard firing back, forcing the agents back down.

"Stay here." Benton said with a look towards Hadji and Jessie.

"Father, no!" Hadji cried, but Benton was already moving.

 _This has to end._

Benton made his way around the stacks of crates they were using for protection, coming up to the side of Zin and his guard.

Stepping out, Benton revealed himself as he yelled, "You're not going anywhere, Doctor Zin."

The two men spun, caught unaware by Benton's flanking move.

The gunman raised his rifle, but another shot rang out from the I-1 agents and the man dropped.

"Doctor Quest," Zin laughed. "Why am I not surprised that you are here?"

"Where's my son, Zin?" Benton growled and balled his hands into fists.

Zin laughed again, "Doing my bidding of course."

Benton fumed at Zin's attitude. "I'm sick and tired of you, Zin. You've constantly attacked and endangered my family and I'm not going to stand for it anymore."

"And what do you propose to do about it?" Zin stepped forward.

Benton didn't answer with words. Pumping his legs, he bolted straight at his nemesis. Zin took a step back, but Benton was on him in a heartbeat. Lowering his head, Benton rammed his shoulder into Zin's chest, sending the deranged scientist to the cold, hard mud.

Zin sneered. Slowly, he got to his feet. As he did, he pulled a curved blade from behind his back. Holding it out for Benton to see, Zin grinned, "Do you remember this, Benton?"

Benton inhaled sharply.

Zin huffed, "Yes, it seems you do." Taking a step towards Benton, Zin flipped the blade around playfully in his hand, "I kept it as a memento. In fact, if you look closely, you can still see the stains on the hilt. Stains from your beloved's blood as it pooled down the blade."

"You're insane." Benton hollered.

"Your precious Rachel said the same thing before I killed her. You recall that, don't you, Benton?"

"You bastard." Benton scoffed.

Striding forward again, no longer concerned for his own safety, Benton swung at his enemy. Zin sidestepped, but Benton adjusted at the last moment and lashed out with his other arm. His fist impacted with the side of Zin's chin. Rattled from the blow, Zin staggered.

Reaching out, Benton grabbed Zin by the wrist, immobilizing the blade he held and spun the man around, slamming him face first into the side of a tan HMMWV.

A sickening crunch reverberated off the metal and Zin groaned. Benton held firm and with his free hand landed a number of blows to the side of Zin's torso.

"Drop the knife and surrender." Benton spat.

"Never." Zin replied and cocked his free arm out, lashing backwards with an elbow strike.

The blow connected and Benton shook his head. The move had given Zin enough opportunity to push back against Benton and turn. Reaching forward, Zin grabbed Benton's shirt and turned, slamming Benton's back against the vehicle. His hand curled around Benton's throat as he pressed the point of the blade against Benton's stomach.

"I'm going to make you suffer, Benton Quest. Slow and painful. I'll enjoy watching you bleed out into the cold, unforgiving mud. Just like I watched the life bleed from your wife's broken body."

Benton gritted his teeth. Zin's hand tightened around Benton's throat, but his own hands went down to clasp Zin's wrists, pushing back against the blade that pushed against his flesh. Benton grimaced as he felt the tip of the blade pierce painfully into his stomach. He watched Zin smile, their faces mere inches apart.

Even as he struggled to survive, Benton managed to recall a number of self-defense techniques that Race had taught him over the years. Taking a chance, Benton let go of Zin's wrist with one hand and used it to jam his thumb and index finger against Zin's eyes.

The mad scientist howled and stepped backwards, letting go of Benton who immediately dropped to his knees, gasping for air.

Zin was shaking his head, reeling from the pain. Looking down, Benton saw the man spit then reach down for him. Grabbing Benton again, Zin picked Benton up to his feet then flung him aside.

Benton landed hard against the ground, pain flaring through his shoulder blades from the frozen, compacted mud that covered the old concrete beneath.

Groaning, stars formed in Benton's vision as Zin loomed over him. He watched as the Mongolian raised the knife above his head with both hands.

"Now you die, Quest." Zin shouted.

Benton heard the shots at the same moment he saw Zin's body jerk. Frozen in place, Benton's body refused to move, but whoever had fired, fired again. More rounds slammed into Zin's body.

Zin staggered backwards as the assault against him continued and when he slammed against the vehicle, he dropped the knife and slid down, thick trails of blood smearing the vehicle's tan paintjob. By the time Zin's rear-end hit the ground, he was dead.

Benton only allowed himself a few seconds to stare at the lifeless form of his longest and deadliest enemy. Rolling onto his stomach, he scanned the courtyard, searching for whoever had saved him from his impending death.

Benton's breath caught in his throat. Standing approximately ten yards away was his son. Jonny. Benton went to push himself up from the ground, refusing to take his eyes off his boy. Dressed in jeans, a dark shirt, and a leather jacket, Jonny Quest was noticeable bigger, having gained a decent amount of muscle during his captivity. His hair was longer too and it swayed gently in the early morning breeze that wafted through the cold, desolate courtyard. He also held an AK-47 rifle.

"Jonny," Benton whispered.

Jonny's eyes were locked on Zin, the man he'd just killed. The man that was about to kill Benton. Benton noted his son's breathing was steady and calm. Killing Doctor Zin did not appear to have fazed Jonny at all.

Now on his knees, Benton raised his hands towards his son. He said the teen's name louder, "Jonny."

Jonny turned towards his father. Benton's felt his breath leave his body when Jonny raised the rifle and pointed it straight at him.

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 **To Be Continued…**


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

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Race heard the gunshots from the courtyard and burst out of the doors that he'd seen Jonny run through earlier. Coming around the corner, Race stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the scene in the courtyard.

Benton was on his knees; an Ak-47 leveled at his chest. An AK-47 held by Jonny.

Race's former I-1 comrades and the Czech Commandos were slowly closing in. Their weapons raised. Raised and pointed at Jonny.

Jonny was stepping closer to his father, ignoring the approaching agents and soldiers.

 _I have to do something._

Waving his arm in a circle, he motioned for Jade to move and come up along the side of Jonny. She responded without question.

Race lowered his weapon and approached. Raising his hands, he called out to his comrades.

"Lower your weapons." He shouted, but wasn't surprised when the I-1 agents and the soldiers hesitated.

Everyone was wound tighter than a knot; the tension was palpable.

"Damnit, lower your weapons!" Race shouted again. "Remember your orders. Jonny is not to be harmed."

Race sighed with relief when he saw Dugger lower his weapon then nod to the others to do the same.

Race observed Altine moving towards the fallen form of Agent Reynolds. Race didn't know what had happened or if the man was alive or dead.

"Jonny," Race started.

Jonny was only a feet from his father, but his weapon was still pointed at the bearded scientist.

Jonny looked back over his shoulder. With a sneer, he said, "I thought that was you back there. I guess I underestimated you, Bannon."

 _Damn. He sounds like Temple._

"Jonny, give it up. It's over. That's your father you're pointing that rifle at." Race stated, attempting to keep his voice even and calm.

"You think I don't know that?" Jonny's grip tightened on the weapon.

Race paused.

The entire courtyard paused.

Time stood still.

A moment later, Race froze as his daughter appeared and walked straight for Jonny.

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Jessie's heart skipped a beat when she saw Jonny. Standing, she let go of Corbin's hand. The Director groaned and turned on his side. Jessie saw his eyes go to the same location as Jessie's. As everyone else's in the courtyard for that matter.

"Jessie," He moaned, but he didn't try to stop her.

Hadji was next to her then as well. "Jessie, what are you doing?"

Without taking her eyes off of Jonny and Doctor Quest, she replied through tight lips. "I'm going to stop this." With a nod towards Phil, she asked, "Stay here and watch him?"

"Jessie, please," Hadji sighed.

"I have to do this, Hadji. For Jonny. For your brother. I can stop him. I know I can."

Hadji mumbled his acquiescence and knelt down next to Corbin.

Walking out from behind the crates, Jessie set her handgun down on top of one of the boxes and called out. "Jonny."

He was different, yet he was the same. _This is it. This is the moment we've been fighting for._

Jessie was terrified, yet she kept walking towards the love of her life. The love of her life that was currently pointing a loaded rifle at his own father. Up close she could see the physical change in Jonny's body; the larger build, the thicker, longer hair where the ends curled upward along his neck. He had a faint scar along one of his cheeks and his features were cold.

"Jonny, don't do this." Jessie pleaded, concentrating on keeping her voice level.

Jonny's face twisted into a scowl and he tightened the rifle into his shoulder. "I have to."

"No you don't." Jessie stated softly. "He's your father. Put the rifle down."

"He let my mother die." Jonny shouted. "He let _your_ father kill her."

"That's not true, son." Benton responded.

"Shut up." Jonny growled, yet he balked at squeezing the trigger.

"Jonny, this is over. We're not here to hurt you. We're here to save you." Jessie said. She fought against the lump in her throat, the tears in her eyes. Jonny was teetering on the edge and if she couldn't convince him to give himself up, if she couldn't prevent him from squeezing the trigger, she feared the I-1 agents and the soldiers would react and possibly gun him down where he stood, regardless of their orders.

"Save me?" Jonny spat. "You left me!"

"No, we didn't. We've been searching for you this entire time."

"Lies!" Jonny shouted, but his voice wavered and Jessie saw a slight trembling in his hands.

She took another step. "Not lies, Jonny. The truth. You don't want to do this. Put the rifle down, Hotshot."

"Don't call me that!" Jonny barked.

Jessie winced. _What had they done to him?_

Jessie found herself getting choked up, "Jonny, I'm here for you. Jonny, I love you. I've loved you all this time. Please don't do this. Please."

Jessie watched Jonny's eyes darting between herself and his father. His body shook and he frowned, his face growing dark.

"You've never loved me, Jessie." Jonny shot back, but she heard the uncertainty in his voice. "You love Hadji. I saw the pictures. I saw how you went to him as soon as I was gone."

Jessie had no idea what he was talking about, but at least he had used her name. He knew who she was. "No, Jonny, I've always loved you, only you. I didn't mean to leave you, to let these horrible people take you. But I came looking for you. Because I love you and I need you. And you need me, Jonny. I know you do. We need each other. We're meant to be together."

Jonny's eyes filled with doubt, but after a moment, he lowered the rifle and let it drop to the ground.

The situation was still tense as Jessie advanced another step. "Jonny."

"No!" Jonny shouted suddenly. With a quickness she'd never seen in him before, he reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a handgun. This time he pointed it straight at her. Men started shouting, but Jessie ignored them all. She watched Jonny reach into his pocket and pull out a rectangular box with a flashing red button.

He held it high for everyone to see, his thumb wavering over the protective shield on the top of the device. "I'll blow us all to hell if you come any closer."

Without hesitation she stepped directly in front of him, blocking him off from the majority of the agents and the soldiers, preventing them from taking action for fear of hitting Jessie.

"Jonny," Jessie let the tears stream down her cheeks. "Jonny, don't. Can't you see what's happening? The Consortium corrupted you. The Consortium drugged you and made you do things. I don't care what you did to my father because it wasn't you that did it. It was The Consortium and its drugs. This isn't you, Jonny."

"This is me, Jessie!" Jonny responded, shaking the pistol at her.

Jessie kept moving. He hadn't shot her, so she risked calling his bluff. "No it's not. You're not going to shoot me. Just like you couldn't shoot your father just now. Because you know what I'm saying is true. You know deep down it's the truth."

Jonny's stammered, "Why did you leave me, Jessie?"

"Those bastards took me away and tried to kill me, Jonny. I didn't leave you on purpose. I'd never do that." Jessie explained, inching closer. She was so close she could see his breathing quickening; his chest heaving faster. "Look around you, Jonny. Look at me. Look at these agents and soldiers. We've been looking for you this entire time. Never giving up. They saved me, but they wouldn't rest till they saved you too. Your dad, your brother Hadji. We've all been looking for you this entire time. Never giving up hope of finding you so you can go home."

Jonny's eyes wandered and Jessie saw him stop on the big Cajun. Dugger was standing silently at Corbin's side and even the Director was watching with as much attention as he could muster through his own injuries.

"You?" Jonny huffed in Dugger's direction.

"Yeah," Dugger responded. Jessie saw the big man set his rifle down on the crate next to her own handgun so he could spread his hands in a show of peace for Jonny. He then jerked his head towards the castle doors where Roberts and Velk stood blocking the group of young men and women from running into the courtyard. "Him too. We were there to protect you, Jonny. Not as mercenaries, but as I-1 agents."

"You…you saved me for real then. Not for money, but for real." Jonny gulped and his voice cracked.

"Yeah." Dugger nodded. "Our orders were to watch over you and protect you from harm."

Jessie wasn't sure what Jonny was referring to, but obviously something happened on that ship, or would have happened if Dugger had not intervened; she catalogued the information.

"Jonny, please put the gun down." Jessie stated, drawing the blonde's attention back to her. "Let's just go home. Let's go home and be a family again. Even Bandit is back there waiting for you, wanting his master to come home."

Jonny pressed his eyes shut and shook his head, his thick locks bouncing around as he did. "I…I don't understand anything anymore."

Jessie was on him then. She heard her father off to the side hiss her name, but she didn't care. Jonny wouldn't hurt her.

Jessie reached forward, placing her hand on top of the gun that Jonny held. When her fingers glided over the top of his hand, Jonny inhaled sharply. His eyes shot open, gazing into hers. They locked. Jessie saw his fear.

Gently, she pushed his hand downward and tugged on the firearm. He let go without resistance. Jessie let it drop to the ground.

Her arms were around him then and they sank to the ground. Jonny buried his head in her shoulder and cried, the detonator slipping from his palm and landing harmlessly in the mud.

Jessie encircled her arms around him, holding him. It had been months since she'd held him, touched him, but all of that vanished the moment they embraced. To Jessie it felt like no time had passed since the last time they were in each other's arms. She'd found him, found her Jonny and as his arms slowly went around her, she knew the real Jonny would come back. After all the months of searching, the relief that washed over her threatened to consume her. Rocking on their knees, they held each other and cried as one.

"I'm so sorry, Jess." Jonny hiccupped into her hair. "I'm so sorry."

"No. You didn't do anything wrong." Jessie responded through her own tears. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It's over."

"I want to go home now." Jonny stated. "I want to go home."

"We will, Jonny. We will." Jessie replied.

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Race finally exhaled; he'd been holding his breath ever since Jessie had gone to Jonny.

And when Jonny dropped his weapons and the teens finally embraced, Race knew the search was over. Lowering his head, he felt all his emotions melt away. His fear, anger, guilt, doubt were all gone.

Stepping forward, he let the teens have their moment and went to Benton. Reaching down, he grabbed the scientist by the forearms and helped him rise. When they were face to face, Benton turned his eyes away from his son and stared at Race.

Race saw the sadness in Benton's eyes, but also the joy. Joy that his son was alive and safe. "Thank you, Race." Benton mumbled.

Race responded by wrapping the man up into his arms, providing his own comfort to his longtime friend. "It's over, Benton."

Benton huffed then broke the embrace. "Yes. And no. It's only just beginning. His road to recovery will be difficult." Race saw the man's eyes drift towards his son again and without looking back at Race, Benton spoke softly, "He was going to kill me, Race. I saw it in his eyes."

"Don't think about that." Race said as Hadji joined them. "Just go talk to him. See him. Hug him and tell him you love him. It's a start."

Benton nodded. Stepping to the side, Race watched as Benton placed an arm around Hadji's shoulder. The two men went and knelt down next to Jonny and Jessie. Race observed with care and for one tense moment he thought Jonny might lash out, but it passed and he exhaled when he saw the family embrace. Jessie remained for a moment, then backed off and stood to let the Quest men have their time together. She picked up the detonator and Jonny's weapons.

She came over and handed off the items she held. Race cleared the weapons and put the detonator in his pocket, ensuring the cover was closed tightly beforehand. Then without any words, Jessie wrapped her arms around him. He returned the gesture and held his daughter tight. "He's gonna need you now more than ever, Ponchita."

"I know, dad. And I'll be with him every step of the way. Through the good and the bad."

"That's my girl." Race smiled happily.

Race allowed himself a few more moments with his daughter before pulling away and getting back into professional mode. Jessie remained at his side as he headed over to the I-1 agents and Czech Commandos. Roberts and Velk were ushering the young members of The Consortium out into the courtyard, letting them mingle and sit while they figured out the best means to get them away from the castle.

Kulhanek was with Dugger and Corbin. When Race approached, the Czech team leader reported, "Skala is dead. The rest of my team went to shut down the detonation system and deactivate the explosives."

"I'm sorry about Skala. He was a good man." Race offered kindly, placing Jonny's weapons down on the crates and handing the detonator off to Kulhanek.

"Ano." Kulhanek nodded then headed off to go join his team.

Dugger spoke next, "Reynolds took a hit. Karla stemmed the bleeding and he's talking, but just like Phil, he needs to get to a hospital."

Race nodded then knelt down next to Corbin. Placing a hand on the back of Corbin's head, Race grabbed one of Phil's hands with his other. Gripping the man's hand tightly, Race smiled at Phil and said, "We did it, brother."

Phil nodded and Race saw the man's eyes rolling a little. "We did." Phil replied quietly.

"We're gonna get you and Reynolds to the hospital. You'll be alright, you tough bastard."

"I hope so." Phil laughed a little.

"You better be because no one wants this big Cajun knucklehead in charge at Headquarters." Race grinned with a nod towards Dugger.

"Watch it, Bannon." Dugger grumbled. "You still owe me for the rear tire on my bike you smoked."

Race laughed. "Send me a bill."

"That or I'll sic your own daughter on you, Roger." Dugger laughed and held up his hand to Jessie. Race watched as the girl gave the big Cajun a high five. "Baby Bannon kicked some serious ass through all of this."

Jessie blushed and Race smiled, enjoying how his daughter interacted with the agents and how they accepted her so easily into their circle. He always knew he could trust these men and women with his own life and they'd just proven to him how he could trust them with his daughter's as well.

Returning his attention to Phil, Race leaned his forehead against Phil's and lowered his voice. "Thank you, Phil. Seriously, brother. Thank you. You risked a lot for us."

Phil nodded.

"Now you can go home and see your own family again."

As Race stood back up, Dugger started to speak. "I'll take care of everything, Bannon. First priority is getting Corbin and Reynolds out of here. I'll call Brooks for Phil when we get down to the village, let him know it's over so he can bring Phil's family back to D.C. I'm sure Corbin will appreciate seeing them the moment we disembark the plane."

"Agreed." Race nodded with another look down to his friend.

"I'll get the investigation here moving. I'll need Roberts' help with dealing with the locals and the U.N. while Corbin is out. We'll make sure everything here is documented and the bioweapons collected and disposed of properly in accordance with international laws."

"Who knew there was a brain in that thick skull of yours, Pete?" Race teased and slapped Dugger on the shoulder.

"Piss off, Bannon." Dugger smiled. "Take Jonny and the others to the village and arrange for transport back to Landstuhl. We'll have to figure out the logistics to get the hell out of here."

Race motioned for Jessie to wait with Phil for a moment and guided Pete a few paces away, out of ear shot. When they were alone he asked, "What did Jonny mean when he asked you about saving him?"

"Don't worry about that, Race." Dugger shrugged but averted his eyes. Whatever it was, it made the big man uncomfortable.

"I need to know, Pete. To help Jonny in his recovery."

Dugger sighed and looked over Race's shoulder towards the Quest men that were slowly getting to their feet. Turning back to Race, Dugger lowered his voice, "Jonny's a good kid. He's lucky to have so many people that care for and love him. Including you and your daughter."

Race nodded and waited.

Dugger frowned and said, "On the ship, some piece of human garbage attacked Jonny in the showers. Was going to…you know…rape him. I didn't let that happen."

"Damn, Dug." Race breathed. In a way he had known something similar to what Dugger was reporting must have happened, he just didn't want to believe it.

"I know. I felt horrible for letting them get by me. Still do." Dugger said. Race could tell the man's guilt was genuine. "But I made them pay for it. Three guys went in there. I only let one live and that was just so he could warn the rest of the crew to stay away from Jonny."

With another slap on the shoulder, Race gave the man another nod. "Thanks, Pete. Seriously, thank you."

"Just doing my job, Bannon." Dugger answered.

Altine came over then and said, "Excuse me, Sirs. We've got one of the vehicles running. Reynolds is already inside."

Race gave the woman a nod. "Thanks, Karla."

Moving back to Corbin, Dugger knelt back down and helped the wounded man up. "I've got him. Go take care of Jonny."

"Thanks, Pete." Race remarked.

He and Jessie walked with the two men towards the vehicle then stepped away to head over to the others.

Race glanced around the courtyard again, his mind running through everything that had happened over the course of the last five months. Shaking his head, he sighed heavily.

"Dad? What is it?" Jessie asked.

"Nothing, sweetheart." Race smiled at her. "I'm just happy this is over. Let's get Jonny and the others and get out of here."

"Sounds good to me." Jessie agreed happily.

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 _Two Days after the Rescue_

Jonny's head was still pounding when he opened his eyes; sleep had done nothing to alleviate the excruciating headache he'd developed earlier in the day. Pushing the covers off of him, it took his mind a moment to remember where he was. He was in a hospital in Germany, they'd arrived late the evening prior by military transport.

Ever since he'd been rescued, his family had gently prodded him for information. Jonny knew they were trying to be kind, but it still annoyed him and the result of the last session on the plane had been the pounding headache that still plagued him. Once they'd arrived at the hospital, he offered up no more explanations, saying he was tired and had a headache. With a bit of reluctance his family had ceased their inquiries and once he'd been assigned a room, they'd left him alone. However, he wasn't totally alone. He knew there was an agent posted outside the door and the hospital room he'd been given was on a higher floor, with windows that did not open. If he'd wanted to run, there was nowhere for him to go.

He hadn't taken any drugs since they'd left the castle and his body was already reacting negatively to the lack of stimulants. His father had given him an injection shortly after they'd found him, explaining it was to help counteract any possible physical damage The Consortium's drugs may have done. Jonny didn't like it, but he hadn't argued either. He had known they'd make him take the injection, willingly or not. Just like when Temple had forced him to start taking drugs.

Temple.

Jonny frowned when he thought about the man that had become like a father to him over the last number of months. A man that had protected him, trained him, and ultimately died to save him. But the others were telling him that Temple was a bad man; that Temple never cared about Jonny at all, only about his own twisted ideals and goals. Jonny had refused to believe it and whenever the subject of the man came up, Jonny shut down and refused to talk.

He'd also avoided Race. Jonny was still amazed that Race had survived and every time he saw the man, Jonny was overcome by conflicting emotions in regards to his bodyguard. He knew that he'd eventually have to face Race and what he'd done to him, but for now Jonny was happy to maintain a wide berth from Race Bannon.

After a quick stop in the restroom, Jonny stepped back into the main area of his room and looked around. The others probably didn't realize it, but they were making him feel like a prisoner. Sure he wasn't stuck in a dirty animal cage or a shipping container, but he still felt restricted.

Agitation began to consume him and Jonny wanted nothing more than to get out. Scratching his arm, he started to study the room, wondering if maybe he could pop a ceiling tile and escape when a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

Spinning, he remained quiet, but when the knock happened again he knew whoever was there wasn't going to leave.

"What?" He groaned, not hiding the annoyance in his voice.

The door pushed inward and Jonny saw Jessie stick her head through the crease. Just enough of the door was open that he could see Race hovering outside, just behind his daughter. Jonny frowned.

"Can I come in?"

Jonny huffed then waved his arm with a shrug. Jessie stepped through, glancing back at her father for just a moment before letting the door shut behind her.

"Did you get any sleep?" She asked, standing just inside the door, not coming any closer.

"Are you afraid of me?" Jonny asked in regards to her hesitation.

"No," Jessie responded and took a step closer. "I just don't want to intrude in your space without you being okay with it."

Jonny sneered and rubbed his temples, "My head hurts." Dropping his hands he studied Jessie through narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry, Jess, I'm just not feeling up to answering any questions at the moment."

"I'm not here to ask you any questions, Jonny." Jessie replied.

That made him pause. "Then what do you want?"

"I just wanted to see how you were feeling and if you needed anything. I imagine you're probably pretty hungry."

"What I need you can't give me." Jonny shot back a bit harshly. He'd give anything for some drugs right now.

Jessie nodded, "I heard you had drugs in your system. I'm sorry that you've had to suffer like that."

"Don't patronize me, Jessie." Jonny growled. "You act like Temple force fed me those drugs."

"Didn't he?"

"No." He shot back immediately, but then stopped. "Well, maybe…I don't know." He sat back down on the edge of the bed then buried his head in his hands. "I don't know what to think anymore. But I do know that I feel like absolute shit."

He kept his eyes downcast while he listened to Jessie's advancing footsteps. Seconds later she took a seat on the bed next to him. He made no move to stop her and he wasn't exactly sure why. Part of him was screaming that Jessie betrayed him, that he shouldn't believe or trust her, but another part was telling him that she was there for him and loved him. It made his head hurt even more.

"I'm here for you, Jonny, you know that, right?." Jessie stated softly. He felt her hand hovering over his knee, like she wanted to comfort him, but was unsure if he'd accept it.

Eventually, he reached over and took her hand. He was happy that he didn't feel any inkling of tension or fear from her when he did. It felt…right.

"What's going to happen to me, Jess? Have you heard anything?" Jonny asked quietly.

"You're going to go home. Once everyone here is cleared we're going to go home."

He looked up at her then. He didn't try to hide his fear any more. "I did things. Horrible things. Criminal things. Your dad for starters…"

Jessie was shaking her head. "Jonny, no one is blaming you for that. Not even my dad."

"What about the other things? Jessie, I killed people."

"Don't think about any of that."

Jonny shook his head. Dropping her hand, he pushed himself off the bed and paced. Frowning he wished his damn headache would go away. Eventually he stopped pacing and looked back at her, "How can I not think about it? How can I not think about what I did? Or that there's a room full of government agents out there that know what I did as well? You honestly think they're going to let me just go home and not answer for what I did?"

"I don't think they have any plans to arrest you, if that's what you're worried about, Jonny." Jessie offered sympathetically.

"Bullshit." Jonny spat. His eyes started darting around the room again, "I need to get out of here."

"Jonny, relax," Jessie started.

Jonny cut her off with a short, deep growl, "Don't tell me to relax, Bannon. I'm not going to prison. I'll bust my way out of here before I let that happen."

Jessie was on her feet then, gliding towards him, "Jonny, please calm down. You're safe. You're not going to prison. Believe me. I was there when they were discussing everything that happened. I'm being truthful when I say they aren't going to prosecute you."

Jonny shook his head, "How can I believe that? Fuck! How can I believe anything? I can't tell the difference between the truths and the fucking lies!"

"Jonny,"

He started banging his fists on the side of his head and shouted, "Why won't this fucking headache go away?!"

"Jonny, stop. Please, you're hurting yourself." Jessie grabbed his wrists, pulling his arms away from his body.

"Damnit, Jess." Jonny mumbled. He hadn't wanted to cry, but he couldn't help it and now his eyes were filling with tears. "Damnit."

Jessie had her arms around him then, holding him as his body shook with tremors. His knees felt like jelly and he sagged to the floor. Jessie held him the entire way and sat down with him. Jonny buried his head in her shoulder as the tears kept flowing. He inhaled, breathing in the scent of her hair, the smells of her skin. Through gasps and hiccups, he confessed, "I'm scared, Ace. I'm really scared."

"I know. I am too, Jonny." She cooed in his ear as she held him tightly.

They sat on the floor for some time and eventually Jonny's tears died down. Pulling back, he looked the redhead in the eyes and said, "My mind is really confused right now, but I'm trying to understand. I really am, but you have to give me time. I don't want to hear any more about Temple. Not right now, okay? I know you all say he was bad, but…I just need time to accept things, okay?"

"Of course, Jonny," Jessie nodded. "We do this on your terms and only yours. Just know I'm here for you through all of it."

Jonny nodded. Wiping at each of his eyes in turn, he pushed himself up off the floor. "I think I could use a shower and some food. Will they let me leave this room?"

Jessie smiled at him. "Of course. Not on your own, but I'll be with you. Hadji wants to see you too and your dad of course. Everyone else, well, they'll only talk to you when you're ready."

Jonny managed to smile. His headache was still present, but he hoped a hot shower and some food would help alleviate the pressure.

"We've got some clothes for you." Jessie said. "Why don't you get in the shower and I'll grab them. They're in a bag out in the hall."

"Thanks, Jessie. And I'm sorry I snapped at you a moment ago."

Jessie waved it off with a grin, "No worries. No worries at all. There's a little German canteen down the hill from the hospital. Maybe if you're up to it we can grab some food down there."

"Sounds good." Jonny replied and the rumble in his stomach confirmed his statement.

 _Maybe things will get better._ He thought as he headed back into the little bathroom to get cleaned up.

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Race had to resist every urge in his body to walk into Jonny's room and check on the two teenagers. Jessie had insisted she go in and talk to Jonny alone as to not overwhelm him and Race had begrudgingly agreed, but he remained standing outside the room, ready to react and bust down the door the moment he heard anything slightly suspicious.

Just when he was about to knock, the door opened and Jessie emerged. The look of relief, as well as concern, gave him pause. "How is he, Ponchita?"

"Tired, angry, confused and suffering from a headache, probably from withdrawals." Jessie reported with a sigh. "He's showering right now, so I just wanted to bring his new clothes in for him and then take him to the canteen for something to eat."

"I don't think he should leave the hospital." Race countered.

"You're making him feel like a prisoner, dad." Jessie explained. "He needs to know that we don't think he's a criminal. He's already afraid I-1 is going to arrest him."

"We aren't going to do that."

Jessie turned towards the sound of the new voice and saw Agent Dugger had arrived. Again, she marveled at how a large, muscular man moved with such stealth and grace.

"Well, he needs to be reassured of that." Jessie stated to the Cajun.

"How's Corbin and Reynolds?" Race asked the agent.

"Corbin is fine and the doctors are discharging him now. It's amazing he survived that fall, but the docs believe his vest actually saved his life when he landed on those crates. He did suffer three broken ribs and a bruised tailbone on top of the concussion and puncture wound to his leg. He'll be tired and cranky, but he'll recover sooner rather than later."

Race chuckled, "When Corbin is 'cranky'," He made air quotes around the word cranky, "he's never pleasant to be around. I feel sorry for you guys."

"I'll keep him in line," Dugger laughed.

"What about Reynolds?" Race asked about the agent that had been assigned to protect Hadji through the ordeal.

"He'll live too. The bullet that dropped him initially grazed the bottom edge of his vest, thus slowing down both its speed and trajectory. It stopped just inches from his spine. If it had gone any further he'd either be dead or paralyzed. But again, the doctors say he'll make a full recovery, but he'll definitely need physical therapy and lots of medication."

"One of these days our luck is going to run out." Race smiled a little. "Between Corbin getting shot almost three years ago, me back in Africa, and now Reynolds…"

Dugger nodded, "Yeah, but let's not forget the poor Czech Commando that didn't make it."

Race frowned. "Yeah."

An awkward silence came over the trio and eventually Jessie grabbed the gym bag full of clothes and said, "I'll take this in to Jonny. He's probably almost finished in the shower."

"Okay, Ponchita." Race smiled at his daughter, happy that she'd spoken up and broken the silence.

As the door closed, Race glanced back at Dugger. Cleaned up and shaven, the Cajun was casually dressed in black slacks and a light blue button down shirt. He wore a leather jacket and comfortable shoes and while Race couldn't see it, he knew Dugger had his sidearm attached to his belt.

"Jonny and Jessie are going to go to the canteen." Race explained. "I'll let them have their time, but I'm going to follow. Sit somewhere far enough away to still watch but give them privacy too."

Dugger nodded.

"Care to join me?"

Dugger grinned, "You asking me on a date, Bannon?"

"Hardly." Race laughed.

"I need to check on Phil." Dugger stated. "Bring his clothes to him too. Did you know Ms. Stasny had his suits cleaned while we were gone? Man, if only _my_ ex-girlfriends treated me that way."

Race laughed, "Well, they were pretty exclusive back then."

"Why don't you ask Estella? You know, since Jade is already gone."

"You noticed that, huh?" Race questioned. As soon as they'd arrived, Jade had made arrangements and slipped away, only telling Race that she'd be in touch. If anyone had cause to fear arrest, it was Jade, not Jonny. She'd capitalized on the opportunity to make a hasty departure when Corbin was admitted to the hospital and his agents were more concerned with finalizing their reports than with watching her. Race had let her go.

"Of course I did." Dugger smacked Race on the shoulder. "And don't worry, I'll take the heat from Corbin on this one. Call it payment for me fucking up back on the ship and letting those guys get close to Jonny."

"Guess I don't owe you a new tire then."

"Bullshit, you totally owe me a tire." Dugger laughed. "If Phil's up to it, we'll join you guys at the canteen later. He probably needs to eat too and you know I never turn down a meal."

Race laughed, "That's for damn sure. Alright, brother. I'll see you guys later."

"Later, Bannon." Dugger said, giving Race a little flip of his finger then turning and heading back down the same hallway he'd come.

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" _I don't understand what's happening right now." Jonny protested._

" _We have a mission to complete, Hotshot." Temple growled._

" _I don't think I can do this, Greg." Jonny replied._

" _You don't have a choice." Greg snapped. "Do it or else I'll kill you then do it myself."_

 _Jonny gulped when Temple raised his handgun threateningly at Jonny._

" _Alright. Alright." Jonny shook his head._

" _Now get inside and get it over with." Temple ordered with a shove to Jonny's back._

 _He was inside his own house, standing precariously at the threshold of a bedroom. He couldn't remember walking up the stairs. One moment he was outside, the next he was here. The cold steel of the pistol in his hand sent a shiver down his spine. Or was it caused by what he was about to do? He couldn't tell._

" _Do it." Temple stated. The I-1 agent turned traitor stood at the foot of the bed. He waved a hand towards the figure that slept there, undisturbed by the intruders. "Kill him. He allowed your mother to die. He's the reason I'm dying. Kill Benton Quest. Kill your father, Jonny."_

 _Jonny was at the side of the bed. He gazed down at the sleeping form of his father. He didn't know if he could do it. He tried to raise his handgun, but it was so heavy. Shaking his head, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a step back. Looking to his mentor, he saw the disappointed look on Temple's face. It hurt Jonny to see that look._

" _I can't. I can't do it." Jonny said and dropped the handgun. It bounced off the circular rug and clattered loudly against the hardwood floor._

" _Coward." Temple said and raised his own pistol. He fired._

 _Jonny jumped and watched as Temple shot Jonny's father as the man slept. The image wavered and soon the lifeless form of Benton Quest was soaked in blood._

" _Why?" Jonny mumbled. He had tears in his eyes. When had he started crying?_

 _Temple's laughter drew Jonny's eyes towards him. The look of disappointment that had earlier blanketed the man's face was now replaced with a look of pleasure. Pleasure from having killed Doctor Quest._

 _Jonny gulped when Temple turned the barrel of the handgun his way. "Temple, don't. Please."_

" _Don't beg, Hotshot. It makes you look weak." Temple laughed._

" _Why are you doing this?" Jonny knew he had to run, but his legs wouldn't budge._

 _Temple cocked his head to the side then shrugged. "Because I can."_

 _Temple fired._

Jonny bolted upright. Breathing heavily, his ears seemed to be ringing from the blasts of the firearm. His hands went to his chest, searching for the impact holes. His shirt was drenched in sweat. So was his hair. Blinking, Jonny tried to focus in the darkness. His eyes scanned the room and eventually, as realization settled in, his breathing began to return to normal.

"Just a dream. It was just a dream." He mumbled allowed.

Getting out of the bed, he didn't bother turning on the lights in his hospital room. Quietly he padded towards the restroom.

"Jonny?"

He spun towards the couch along the wall. He saw the figure sitting up, having been awakened by Jonny's abrupt departure from his dream world.

"Jessie?" He asked. "I didn't realize you were in here."

"Jonny, are you okay?" Jessie asked. Her words were steeped with concern, but not pity. And for that Jonny was thankful.

"I'm fine, Jess. Just need to use the bathroom. That's all." Jonny answered, trying to sound normal. "Go back to sleep."

"It sounded like you were having a nightmare," Jessie responded. Jonny kept his eyes on her for a few more moments and eventually he moved towards her.

Jessie pulled her legs up underneath her as Jonny sat down on the couch. He kept a little distance between them, still not entirely comfortable with his feelings. The only light in the room came from the partially illuminated moon that hung outside the window. To Jonny that was fine for the moment.

Running a hand through his hair, Jonny huffed a little laugh.

"What is it?" Jessie asked politely.

"I don't think my hair has ever been this long." Jonny replied. Turning his head to look at her, he could just make out the soft look in her eyes.

"Honestly, I kind of like it." Jessie replied.

She reached out to him then, her hand going towards his blonde locks. Instinctively Jonny leaned back, away from her reach. Jessie pulled her hand back. Jonny saw the edges of her lips curl into a slight frown. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"No," Jonny spoke. "Don't be. It's me. I'm still not used to this." He hadn't yet mentioned his exploits with the Ukrainian prostitutes or the girls at the castle. He wasn't sure how.

"I understand." Jessie hummed. "If you want me to leave, I will."

She pushed the blanket away then, but Jonny exhaled, causing her to stop. "No. You don't have to leave. I don't want you having to walk back to the hotel by yourself."

"It's not far and one of the agents outside can escort me."

That confirmed for Jonny that he was still under guard and by more than one person. He really didn't have a chance of sneaking out.

"No, stay. I want you to stay. Really. But for now, I need to take this slow. One day at a time."

"Okay." Was her only reply.

With a sigh, Jonny stood, suddenly feeling like a rock was dumped into his gut. "I'm going to use the bathroom then try to get some sleep. You should go back to sleep too."

He saw her nod in the darkness.

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 _Three Days after the Rescue_

Benton watched as Jonny rubbed his arm near the injection sight. Doctor Quest had just administered another shot and while Benton could tell Jonny was still apprehensive about it, he was happy Jonny was allowing him a chance to help. Benton hadn't said anything in regards to the tattoos in Jonny's arms. That was a topic for a later discussion.

"Any more headaches, son?" Benton asked and set the needle down.

Jonny shook his head. "Not at the moment."

"That's good, but we both know it they'll come back. I just hope that each time they are less painful than the one prior." Benton smiled.

Jonny nodded and hopped down from the hospital bed, "Yeah. How much longer do we need to stay here?"

"Only a few more days, Jonny. I know you're anxious to get home. We all are, but we have to make sure you're okay to fly."

Benton watched his son's face darken for a moment. They were alone in Jonny's hospital room and while it was spacious, it was bleak, with a sterile feel to it. The good news was that Jonny was up for venturing out more often and while he'd gone to the canteen the day prior with Jessie and nothing happened, Benton knew his son was still apprehensive in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Benton watched his son wander towards the windows, staring out into the grey winter world. Benton didn't speak, letting Jonny be the first the strike up a conversation if he wanted. He didn't have to wait very long.

"Dad," Jonny started still staring out the window for a moment. "I…I'm sorry."

"Son, you don't have to apologize."

Jonny shook his head and turned. Benton felt his breath catch in his throat at the pain and sorrow on his son's face. "Everyone keeps saying that, but I do need to apologize. I feel I have to. I pointed a gun at you. I was going to kill you. And that's not right."

"Jonny," Benton started, but stopped, finding that he didn't know what to say.

Jonny went on. "I'm still trying to figure everything out in my head. I know I should believe you, believe what everyone is telling me, but it's hard. It's hard for me to dismiss everything I was told. Everything that I saw in my head. I had dreams, dad. Strange dreams. Dreams that when I think about them, confuse me even more."

"You can tell me, Jonny. I'm your father. I'll never pass judgment."

Jonny nodded a bit at that. "Back in the courtyard, I accused you of letting mom die. And for the life of me, I can't figure out if you really did."

Benton thought his heart was going to break at that moment. Slowly, he reached into his pants pocket and withdrew his wallet. Opening it, he pulled out an old photo. It was creased and wrinkled, one of the edges worn away, but he kept it on him at all times. Moving carefully towards his son, he held the photo out for Jonny to take.

"You probably don't remember that photo being taken." Benton started. The picture was of Benton, Rachel, and a young Jonny at seven years old. "This is the last photo that was taken of all three of us before your mother passed away. We were on vacation in Alaska. Your mom loved the snow, she always reminded me of that fact when we set up in Palm Key."

Benton studied his son's behavior, watching Jonny run a finger over the smiling faces of his parents. "You and your mom had so much fun on that vacation. Fishing. Hiking through the woods. I was terrified that we'd get attacked by bears, but not your mom." He found himself smiling as he told the story. "Your mom was fearless, Jonny. That's where you get it from, from your mom. She'd say _'darn those bears'_. And you'd just laugh and she'd laugh too. Her laugh was infectious. Of course we never saw any bears, but your mom got you a little stuffed animal bear and you never let it out of your sight. When your mom passed, you would cling to that bear and you'd cry and my heart just tore apart because I knew how much you missed her. I missed her too, Jonny."

Benton choked up when he heard Jonny's voice crack; saw the tears on the young man's face. "I still miss her."

"I do too, Jonny. Every day I miss her."

"It's true that Zin killed her, isn't it? Not Race. But Zin." Jonny asked, still clutching the photo.

"Zin killed her, Jonny. I didn't even know Race at the time." Benton told his son. "Race had nothing to do with it."

Jonny nodded then held the photo back out to his father. Benton shook his head and motioned, "You keep it, Jonny."

"I can't, this is yours." Jonny protested, but made no move to hand it back over again.

Benton smiled wearily, "Keep it, son. At least for now. Keep it as long as you need it and if, whenever you think you don't need it anymore, you can give it back then. But if you never do then that's okay too."

With a sniff, Jonny wiped his nose then gingerly put the photo into his pants pocket. He looked up at Benton again, "Maybe when we get home we can pull out some of the old photos and I can find one I like too."

Benton nodded. Turning away, he went over to his little bag that he'd brought in with him. "I have something else for you, Jonny."

"What?" Jonny asked. It appeared his curiosity was replacing his fear because he followed Benton slowly.

Benton pulled out the bracelet that Corbin had given back to Benton back in Pennsylvania, the one Jonny had given to Jessie and they'd recovered in Ralph Douglas' van. The bracelet that Rachel had made for her son. Benton held it out then placed it in the palm of Jonny's hand.

Jonny's brow furrowed as he clenched the bracelet. Looking up into Benton's eyes he said, "I…I gave this to Jessie. I think. It's hard to remember. I'd forgotten."

Benton nodded and placed a hand on Jonny's shoulder. "We found it when we found Jessie. She'd left it as a clue to let us know you were still alive."

Jonny choked up again and Benton was relieved when Jonny reached out and hugged him. It felt good. Benton held his son tightly, but when he felt Jonny pull back, he let go, not wanting to restrain the teen. Benton watched Jonny slip it over his hand onto his wrist.

"Dad, I know things aren't going to be easy." Jonny started. "And I know there may be times that I question things. Get angry. Try to run. But I'm going to try. I really am."

Jonny had always been mature, but listening to him speak now reminded Benton that he still didn't know all that Jonny had been through. They may have just taken a positive step forward, but Benton was well aware of how PTSD could affect a person and he knew there'd be times that Jonny would regress. He'd fight and he'd get angry, perhaps even hateful and spiteful, but Benton promised himself right then and there that he'd never push back against his son during the boy's recovery.

"We'll get through this together, Jonny. I love you, son. I love you more than life itself. And so does everyone else. We're all going to be here for you and if at any time you feel we're pushing too hard, just raise your hands. That'll tell me to back off. Okay?"

Jonny nodded a little. "Okay."

"Do you want to go outside? Go for a walk? It's cold but the fresh air will probably do us both some good. Maybe get some food along the way?"

"I'd like that, dad." Jonny stated. He moved away then, going to retrieve the coat they'd bought for him. "In fact, I'd like for Hadji to come too."

"What about Jessie?"

"Maybe I can see her later." Jonny suggested. "After lunch. For now, I'd just like it to be the three of us. Maybe later I can finally talk to Race too."

"We'll take it one step at a time, son. Jessie and Race will understand."

Jonny shrugged his coat on. Zipping it up, Benton took a chance and wrapped his arm around Jonny's shoulders. When the teen didn't resist, Benton smiled. It was going to be hard, very hard, but Benton also knew that sooner or later, things would be normal again.

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 _Four Days after the Rescue_

Phil walked into the hospital conference room where his team, along with Race and Doctor Quest were assembled. Hadji, Jessie, and Estella were with Jonny and as much as Corbin felt Benton should be with his son as well, the Doctor had insisted being present at the debriefing.

Alena, Colonel Martinek and the Commandos had departed the day prior. Phil and the others had thanked Alena for her help and offered his condolences for the death of the Czech soldier, Skala. Alena reassured them that Skala would receive full military honors for his ultimate sacrifice, to include a posthumously awarded medal for his dedicated service. Kulhanek had mentioned that Skala left behind a wife and two children and while Alena said the family would be taken care of, Phil overheard Benton state that he would set up a fund to help out as well. Benton explained to Alena and Kulhanek that it was the least he could do for a man that didn't even know him or Jonny, but had fought to save Jonny without question or hesitation, giving his life in the process.

Phil told himself he'd contribute however he could as well. The Czechs had been strong allies of the U.S. and Intelligence One over the years and just like Benton, Corbin was hurt by the death of the Czech Commando.

Phil ran his hand over his tie as he took a seat at the table, wincing just a tad from his tightly bandaged ribs. "Reynolds is still asleep. Once he's cleared for flight, we can head back home. The doctors think it'll be another day or two."

The group nodded and Phil saw the looks of relief on their faces that their wounded comrade would be okay.

Benton spoke up, "I've called one of my planes. It should arrive here in Landstuhl late this evening. It'll be ready to depart whenever we are."

"Thank you, Doctor." Phil replied. Looking towards Agent Dugger, Phil nodded towards his second in command to proceed with the debriefing.

Dugger stood as Phil opened the folder in front of him.

"The castle has been cleared and determined safe. Six portable explosives devices, each rigged with the biological contaminant were discovered. Each was rendered inert. In addition to the biological agents that were already incorporated into the bombs, we discovered fourteen additional samples in The Consortium's lab. A U.N. alert has been issued, however from the notes and other documents recovered at the castle, we do not believe any devices were deployed, with the exception of the devices in Mogadishu."

"We issued the alert as a precautionary measure since David Van Brandt escaped." Roberts added, "We cannot be sure he didn't take something, however thanks to Rage's detailed inventories of the bioweapons, we do not believe Van Brandt took anything with him when he fled. But we felt the alert was still warranted, just in case."

"Good thinking," Race stated with an appreciative nod towards the agents.

Velk added to the report, "All conventional weapons, to include fifty-one stinger missiles, were collected and taken to an offsite location and destroyed. I oversaw the process and annotated what serial numbers were readable before we blew everything up. I sent the information to the GOC and they are currently working on tracing the serial numbers. More than likely most of the weapons were purchased on the black market, but we're hopeful we can get some hits and be able to trace the weapons back to The Consortium's weapon suppliers."

"What of Van Brandt and Anaya Zin?" Race asked when the younger agent finished his report.

Dugger continued, his eyes sweeping across everyone at the table as he spoke, "In addition to the alert, we also issued an international APB for David Van Brandt and Anaya Zin. They were the only two unaccounted for at the castle when we searched and cleared it. Thirty four gunmen were killed, twelve surrendered, arrested and transported to The Hague for prosecution. As for those we believe were in charge of The Consortium, we recovered the bodies of Doctor Zin, Melana Zin, the woman known as Julia, and Argus Grimm, aka Ezekiel Rage. Greg Temple's body was also recovered. It appeared he was being prepped for cremation, however our raid interrupted it. Lucius Kreed's body is still being held by authorities in Munich." Dugger directed his attention to Phil, "They are requiring your signature to release the body."

"I'll take care of it." Phil replied through pursed lips.

"We also received a report that Nikolai Yasimov was attacked in the ICC detention center." Roberts added. "He was stabbed and the shank broken off in his body, leading to an infection. His status is questionable."

"I can't say that upsets me very much." Race grumbled.

"Likewise," Roberts stated. "After Yasimov was attacked, Ian McManus was moved to solitary confinement at a black site facility and will stay there until his trial. McManus did not attack Yasimov, however the authorities believe he could also be a target."

"What about the others?" Benton asked. "The younger members that did not fight."

Altine sat up a little straighter. "Twenty seven total, ranging in age from about sixteen to twenty three, multiple nationalities. All were unharmed during the raid, but initial medical exams showed they all had traces of the same drugs in their systems that the two men back in D.C. had, as well as Jonny. Medical personnel began administering Doctor Quest's treatment and we're still working to determine all of their identities. We're working on the assumption that they are all kidnapping victims. A team back at Headquarters is already working to positively confirm each ones' identity and start working reintegration plans for them to be reunited with their families."

Phil withdrew his phone from his suit jacket. Unlocking it and filtering through his emails, he pulled up one in particular and handed the phone to Benton. "I received this email as I was getting dressed. It's a status update on the detainee Stephen Hayes." He paused as Benton read through the email. For the benefit of the others, he continued, "It appears your formula is showing positive results, Doctor. Scans indicate that Stephen's brain patterns are returning to normal and the doctors are closely monitoring his physical recovery from the drugs as well. Hayes was also using other illicit drugs, just like Jonny, so his detox has been difficult, but he's getting better."

"That's good news." Race added, shooting Benton a hopeful smile. "What about the other man that attacked you?"

Phil sighed, "Timothy Sterns is still in a coma, so his scans are not conclusive. We won't know his condition for sure until he wakes up. If he wakes up."

"Do you still plan to prosecute both men?" Benton asked.

Phil blinked at the question. He had an idea why Benton asked. If these men were acting under the influence of The Consortium's drug as well as following orders from Greg Temple, Benton probably feared Jonny could be prosecuted as well.

"That's something we can discuss at a later point, but as of right now, I view Jonny's situation differently than those men." Phil answered honestly. "There's no plan to begin prosecutorial procedures against Jonny, Doctor."

"The Consortium has ruined so many lives." Benton mumbled. "What a shame."

Phil shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not really sure how to respond. Glancing around the table he saw the rest of the team reacting in the same manner.

After another pause, Phil cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the team. "Anything else?"

"Nothing more at this time, Sir." Dugger stated immediately.

"Doctor?" Phil asked Benton.

Benton shook his head, "No. Again, thank you. All of you."

The agents nodded. Phil stood, "My agents and I have some paperwork to finalize if you have nothing else for them or myself at the moment."

Benton shook his head and stood. Phil gave Race a nod, indicating for him to go with Benton so Phil could address his agents in private.

When the door closed behind the two men, Phil sat back down and studied his team. They looked exhausted.

"First off, I also want to say thank you to all of you." Phil spoke. "Each of you, to include Reynolds, the team back at the GOC, Brooks watching my family, and those at the farmhouse have given a lot on this mission, more so than I'd ever ask from you."

"That's what we're here for, boss." Dugger stated and received nods from the others.

"I know, but it means a lot to me. You know how I feel about the Quests and Bannons, so this was quite personal for me too. So here's the plan. Before we head back home I want each of you to submit vacation requests to me. Two weeks for now starting once we get home. There's still a lot of work to be done; tracking down Van Brandt and Anaya Zin, getting the rest of these kids home and tracing those weapon dealers. But the people back at the GOC can handle that. You all earned it, so no arguments."

"What about you?" Roberts asked.

"I'll take some time off, but I won't leave D.C. until Dugger is back." Phil smiled a bit, "The night my family and I were attacked, I told my kids I was going to take them on a vacation over winter break. I thought this would all be over long before then. But I still plan to keep my promise and take them to Disneyworld. I'll just do it when Dugger comes back. That'll give my family time to get reacquainted with being back in their own home."

The others nodded and Phil was glad they didn't push him any further on the subject. "As for the rest of our time here. I've already spoken with Race and between him, Jessie, Benton, Hadji and Estella, they'll cover down watching Jonny. For now, our role here is over. Jonny has enough going on, he doesn't need us hovering, asking questions. You're all released for the rest of the day. I'll close up shop here. Go out and enjoy the local area."

He couldn't help smiling a little at the surprised and grateful looks on all of their faces.

Phil pulled an envelope from his pocket and slid it across the table. "These are passes for each of you to get off and back on this installation. Show them to the gate guards and sign out and back in at the main gate. Enjoy yourselves and be back in this conference room by eight a.m. tomorrow morning. Too often we travel the world on missions and never get to enjoy the places we go to. So I don't want to see any of you the rest of the evening. Understood?"

Smiles spread across the faces of his agents as Roberts handed the passes to Velk, Dugger, and Altine then pocketed his own. As they rose and left, voicing their thanks to Corbin as they exited, he noticed Dugger hanging back, collecting up the folders and shutting down his laptop.

"I said I can take care of all of this, Pete." Corbin said, shutting down his own computer.

Dugger shook his head and looked over at Corbin, "It's not a problem, Phil. I assume you got one of those passes for yourself?"

Phil nodded. "I do, but I wasn't planning on going out. I want to check on Reynolds."

Dugger grinned a little, "Well, how about this, boss. Let's clean up here, go check on Reynolds who I'm sure is still knocked out, and then head out. I assume you're okay to drink with the meds they gave you?"

"They gave me Motrin." Phil laughed a little.

"Then the first round is on me." Dugger stated as he shuffled the folders, tapping them on the table to get them all straight.

"You're not going to let me say no, are you?" Phil grinned.

"Negative, brother." Dugger shook his head with a smile. But then he turned his head to give Phil a serious look. "We took out Grimm together. And while part of me is happy that man is finally dead, another part of me still hurts that he turned against us. Same with Temple. We've lost too many good men and women over the years, Phil. Let's go have a drink and remember them."

Phil nodded. "Yeah. Let's."

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 **To Be Continued…**


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Six days after Jonny's rescue, the plane was in route and scheduled to land in D.C. in approximately four hours, arriving in the early morning hours on one of the non-commercial runways at Dulles. Benton had insisted they use his company's plane for a number of reasons; the first being that it was already paid for by his own company; the second being that he honestly believed the military and Intelligence One had already done and sacrificed enough on his behalf and third and most importantly, it provided some level of normalcy for Jonny.

Quest Enterprises' engineers had developed a new layout, making the plane more of a flying high-end office than merely a mode of transport. The interior of the plane had been modified; all of the seats had been removed during the plane's overhaul and renovation. New carpet had been installed, the lavatories made larger, and a self-service kitchen area built into the rear of the plane. The seats had eventually be replaced, but not all of them. Only about thirty seats had been reinstalled after they'd been upgraded for comfort. The seats were not in rows, but conveniently arranged to provide passengers comfort, privacy, and luxury. In addition to the seats, rows of couches ran along the walls near the rear of the plane. Four separate work tables were placed throughout the interior, two on each side, with chairs placed around them. A flat screen television was inset into the dividing wall in the middle of the plane. Smaller televisions were all throughout the plane for convenience.

Stepping out of the rear kitchen, Benton held two cups of coffee securely while he looked around the plane. Benton knew Intelligence One had some very nice, high tech equipment, to include a state of the art fleet of vehicles and planes. Benton knew this because he'd helped design and develop a large number of the pieces of equipment and even some of the vehicles. Corbin's private I-1 jet that he used exclusively for official business stateside and into Canada and Mexico, was a smaller version of Benton's Dragonfly aircraft.

But from the initial looks on the faces of the I-1 agents when they'd first boarded over four hours prior and even now, Benton could tell they weren't used to this type of luxury.

Both Agents Dugger and Velk were stretched out on some of the couches. Dugger was snoring lightly and Velk wore earphones that he'd bought back in Germany stuffed, the other end plugged into his iPhone. His eyes were closed, but the little bops of his head indicated to Benton that the young agent was still awake, listening to music.

Walking past the two men that had protected his son on board the Norwegian vessel that had sailed from Africa, Benton saw Agent Roberts and Altine. Benton had only met Karla Altine back when Jonny and Jessie had first disappeared, but the woman had proved her grit time and time again over the course of the investigation. She'd even found time for her own love life and had eagerly snatched up Roberts as her own. Benton couldn't help smiling thinking about the woman's vivacious personality and straight-forward approach to life. Benton was happy for her and Terry Roberts.

Roberts had recovered almost completely from the injuries he'd sustained from Rage's attack in Moscow, but Benton smiled a little when he saw Karla insistently running a finger over the last visibly scars on Roberts' forehead, causing the generally bashful man to playfully tell her to stop as he tried to read a book. A quick glance at the cover told Benton it was probably some sort of horror or mysterious novel by the artwork, but the title and little descriptive teaser was in a language Benton didn't recognize.

Agent Reynolds was still drugged up and asleep. He occupied another section of the long couch, across from Roberts. The doctors had removed the bullet from his back, remarking that it was nothing but sheer luck that the bullet stopped where it did, barely missing his spinal cord. Reynolds would have to go through physical therapy, but the doctors had been confident he'd make a full recovery. Benton didn't know Reynolds very well, but the man had been assigned to protect Hadji and from his son's own words, the agent had done so admirably and without question or hesitation. When Reynolds was in surgery, Hadji had mentioned the agent had been married for a couple years and had a newborn boy waiting for him back home. Benton was alleviated the young man would survive.

As he continued to make his way towards the front of the plane where his sons, Jessie, Race, and Estella were seated, Benton paused when he reached Corbin. Benton's presence must have appeared in the corner of the man's eye causing him to pull his own ear-buds out of his ears; Benton heard the faint sounds of Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 bleeding out of the buds. Phil looked up from his laptop when Benton took a seat in the chair next to the Director, handing the man one of the cups of coffee.

"I assume you know the significance of the piece you're listening to?" Benton inquired with a kind smile. He'd never pegged Corbin as a fan of classical music, but he also knew the Director was a well-rounded individual. Like Benton, Corbin might have found classical music calming, able to set his mind at ease so he could focus and concentrate.

"You mean that it is currently floating around our universe, waiting to be discovered by some form of extraterrestrial life?" Corbin responded with a smile.

Benton nodded kindly, "The Voyager 1. What a concept when you think about it. It could be out there forever. Long after mankind ceases to exist the Voyager will still be out there, carrying our messages, snippets of our culture, our knowledge."

"If it's not discovered first." Phil pointed out.

"I didn't think you believed in such things." Benton raised an eyebrow at the man.

Phil's only response was to shrug and sip the coffee Benton had given him.

"How are you feeling?" Benton asked politely, changing the subject.

"Still in quite a bit of pain." Phil replied with a weak smile. "But getting better."

"You should try and get some sleep, Phil." Benton suggested.

Phil smiled, "So why'd you bring me coffee, Doctor?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't listen to my suggestion." Benton laughed.

"I have a bit more work to do then I'll try to get some rest. I don't think coffee can combat how truly exhausted I am. It'll be nice to be back in my own bed tonight."

"I understand that sentiment, Phil." Benton smiled.

"We're still working this as an active investigation until we find Van Brandt and Anaya Zin as well as the weapon suppliers. However, I'm going to give this team some time off. They've earned it."

Benton nodded his complete agreement. "That they have. But what about you?"

"I promised my daughters I'd take them on vacation, but at this point I imagine they'd like to be back in their own house for a bit. I'll take a few days, but wait for a real vacation till Agent Dugger gets back from his." Phil gestured at the laptop. "I'm actually working on approving all of their requests right now. I had them submit the forms to me before we left Germany."

Benton gave the Director a once over. It was no surprise that his agents were willing to follow Corbin; accepted him as their leader. Not only did he know his job, and know it well, he didn't back down from a fight, battling right alongside his people. And then at the end of the day, he put his agents' needs before his own. Benton could appreciate such leadership.

"Well, don't work too hard, Phil. Get some rest, okay?" Benton stated as he stood.

"I will Doctor. Thank you."

"Phil, thank you." Benton replied. "Seriously, thank you and all of your agents. I don't think I'll ever be able to stop saying that to you."

Phil waved his hand as he sipped the coffee. "It's okay, Doctor. But I do appreciate your gratitude. I'll make sure my agents do as well."

"Perhaps when Jonny is better, when his recovery is progressing, I'll have you all up to Maine. A party could do everyone some good I would think."

"That would be nice, Doctor Quest." Phil smiled.

"Yes," Benton agreed. With a sharp exhale, he looked the Director in the eyes and said, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Next time I walk past I hope to see you passed out, just like your team, or else I'll have to rethink allowing you further internet access on my plane."

Phil chuckled. "Deal."

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"Roger, you know they can tell you're staring at them, yes?" Estella mewed softly in his ear.

Race smiled then turned to gaze at his ex-wife; the sleepy look in her eyes told him she'd just woken up. "I thought you were asleep, Stell."

"Mmhmmm, don't evade." Estella replied with a small grin. "You have to give them their space."

Race nodded, but he couldn't help but look back at the teens. Jonny and Jessie were seated across from them, speaking in hushed tones. Jonny appeared agitated, his leg bouncing up and down, but Jessie's gentle encouragement seemed to be provide some relief to the young man.

Jonny had yet to approach Race to discuss all that had transpired, only speaking to him in short bursts and providing yes or no answers to Race's questions. While it bothered Race, deep down he knew he had to give Jonny time to come to terms with what he'd done. Race feared that if he pushed the issue too forcefully in these early days, Jonny would clam up and retreat back into himself. That was the last thing Race wanted. For now it appeared that Jonny was truly trying and Race didn't want to do anything that stopped Jonny from healing.

So he looked back at Estella. Tenderly, he placed his fingers on the redhead's chin, lifting her gaze to his and looking into her eyes; the same eyes that years ago Race had fallen massively in love with. He planted a gentle kiss on her lips, "I know, Stell. I just worry about them. Both of them. Jonny's been through so much, but so has our daughter."

"I believe," Estella nodded as she spoke, "I believe Jessie and Jonny will heal together. I think that's the best we can hope for. While you were gone, she was consumed with only one task, to find Jonny. Now that he's back, she can finally begin her own road to recovery too."

Race nodded and the pair fell silent. Estella leaned her head on Race's shoulder and he felt the cool wisps of her breath on his neck. He took her hand and held it close, providing a level of comfort and security that years ago he'd been unable to give to her. Eventually, he asked, "Are you going to stay in Maine with us for a while?"

Estella didn't raise her head as she answered. "If that's what Jessie wants."

"What if it's what I want?" Race asked carefully.

Estella sat up at that. She looked him in the eyes for a brief moment, "Race, we can't think,"

"Stell, that's not what I'm asking," Race reassured, giving her hand a squeeze, "But I know that I could benefit from your presence. You're right that Jonny and Jessie will struggle, but they're not the only ones. We've all be changed in some way, shape, or form by what's happened. That includes me. And you. All I'm asking is that you stay for a while."

Her brow furrowed a little in the way Race remembered it would when Estella was contemplating her decisions and when her features relaxed, Race smile inwardly. Estella nodded, "Alright. I'll stay."

Race let his inward smile out, a pleasant look on his face, "Thank you, Estella."

She didn't say any more. Leaning her head back on his shoulder, Estella closed her eyes. A few shifts for comfort later and she was fast asleep once again.

Race stole another glance at the teens. Jonny and Jessie were still together, but they didn't appear to be speaking at the moment. Looking back over his shoulder as best he could without disturbing Estella, he saw Benton had returned from the back of the plane and was seated next to Hadji. The young Sultan had his eyes closed, his head leaning against the window next to his seat. Benton was reading a book and sipping coffee, but he must have felt Race's stare because he raised his eyes.

When they're eyes met, Race nodded towards his longtime friend. Benton nodded back, smiled a little, and then returned to his book.

 _A long road ahead, but things will get better. They have to._ Race reminded himself. _They have to._

Estella adjusted, moving her head from Race's shoulder to lean against the window. Not wanting to make too much noise that would disturb his ex, Race leaned down and pulled his small backpack out from beneath the seat. Unzipping one of the side pockets, he grabbed his pills and a bottle of water. He'd been trying to be discreet about the amount of pain he'd been experiencing since Africa and he knew that his actions during the raid had compounded his injuries. During the few days they'd spent in Germany before departing, Race had seen another doctor and had secured a prescription of high powered pain medications.

Shaking two of the tablets into his palm, Race popped the pills into his mouth, chasing them down with a long swig from the water bottle. Setting both the pills and the water back into the bag, Race settled back and closed his eyes.

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It took all of his willpower to resist his urges and remain calm. It had been almost a week since Jonny had taken any drugs other than what the doctors and his father had given him. But those weren't the kind of drugs he was interested in. Jonny never considered himself an addict, but the feelings he was now experiencing made him wonder just how deeply he'd let himself get hooked on Temple's drugs, both the powdery mixture and the other narcotics.

Jessie had closed her eyes, but she still kept a hand on his forearm. At the moment, Jonny was torn between leaning into her or pushing her away. He wanted both. A quiet noise drew his attention across the plane and he watched from the corner of his eye as Race popped some pills into his mouth.

His own mouth salivated as he watched and Jonny wanted nothing more than to find a way to get his hands on whatever it was that Race had just taken.

 _I'll figure something out._

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When the plane landed and rolled to a stop, Phil and his agents said their goodbyes to Doctor Quest and Race. Estella and the three teens were still asleep and Phil knew it was best to let them sleep. Everyone had been going full throttle and now that things were winding down, it was apparent that the months of stress and exhaustion had finally caught up with everyone, to include Jonny and whatever experiences the teen had gone through on his end.

"I'll be in touch." Phil said as he shook hands with Race then Doctor Quest.

"Alright," Race answered.

With one final nod, Phil picked up his gym bag and followed his agents, who had already departed. Medical personnel had entered through the rear of the plane, using a lift to transport Agent Reynolds to the waiting ambulance. He was heading straight to a medical facility, and Phil verified that Reynolds' wife had been notified and two agents had taken her and the Reynolds baby to the hospital to meet him there.

His team was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. Heading across the windy tarmac, Phil pulled the lapels of his overcoat tight in an attempt to block the wind; the chilly morning air accompanied by a light falling of snowflakes.

"I'll link up with the agents inside," Dugger spoke over the wind, "make sure our equipment is downloaded from the plane while the crew refuels it. We'll make sure it all gets back to headquarters and logged back in."

"I can help." Velk offered.

Phil appreciated the dedication of his agents. Since neither Dugger nor Velk were currently in a relationship, they must have felt they didn't need to get back to their homes right away. Phil nodded, "As soon as you're done I want you out of the office. You both need to head home and decompress. All of us do." He nodded towards Roberts and Altine too.

"Yes, Sir." Dugger smiled.

"Are you nervous?" Roberts asked Corbin, relieving Dugger of any further scrutiny from their boss.

"A little." Phil replied honestly.

"You'll be fine." Karla offered with a smile.

Phil nodded. They'd reached the entrance of the small private terminal by then. Dugger pulled the door open, allowing everyone to step inside.

A short distance away stood Phil's family, surrounded by I-1 agents. Sarah held their youngest daughter in her arms, the little girl's head resting on her mother's shoulder, her hand clutching a piece of red construction paper. Marissa stood at her mom's side. Agent Brooks hovered protectively off to the side, still fulfilling his duty as their protector until Corbin officially relieved him.

Dugger and the others stepped aside as the I-1 agents came forward to meet them, leaving Phil alone.

Phil quickened his pace, pushing away the pain it caused in his ribs. Jenny must have seen them because she lifted her head from Sarah's shoulder then struggled to be set down. The moment her feet hit the floor she was running towards her father. Crouching down, Phil dropped his bag and scooped the little girl up into his arms, fighting to hold back his tears.

"Daddy!" The girl cried into his chest.

"Hey there, little princess." Phil smiled as he held his youngest close. "I've missed you."

"I made this for you." Jenny smiled and held the paper out for him to see the moment he pulled back a little.

Phil studied the child's drawing, attempting to remain stoic. It was a typical drawing that any young child would make, crudely drawn figures hovering over a diagram of the globe. The figures, three of them wore dark glasses and ties, holding guns and at other figures that were obviously meant to be bad guys, their arms raised high. At the bottom, beneath the globe, were other figures and animals, all smiling.

"This is amazing," Phil smiled at the girl. "Thank you."

"It's you and them," The girl waved a hand at the agents that milled about, "saving the world and protecting us. That's us down at the bottom."

Phil pulled the girl in close again, it was all he could do to hide his tears.

Sarah and Marissa where next to him then. Standing, he set the young girl's drawing down on his bag. Jenny remained wrapped around his leg as he pulled the other two woman into a tight embrace.

"I've missed you all so much." He said.

"We've missed you too, dad." Marissa responded. She was trying to stay strong, but eventually she started to tear up.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to your volleyball tryouts, Marissa." Phil choked up a bit at the fact that his family's lives had been interrupted by all of this.

Phil felt the girl shake her head against his torso, her arms tightening a bit around him as she did. He fought to stop himself from wincing, from showing any pain.

Marissa's response made him want to break down right then and there, "I don't care about that, daddy. I just care that you're home now. Home and safe and back with us."

Phil put a hand on the girl's shoulder blade and held her as he leaned in and kissed his wife, when he pulled back he gazed into her eyes, "I've been waiting for this moment."

Sarah nodded a little, "Me too, Phil."

He pulled them in tight again, holding them, reassured that they were really there and okay. That everything would be okay.

"They said you were hurt." Sarah whispered in his ear as her hands clenched his upper back.

"I'm fine. All that matters is being back with the three of you." Phil replied softly.

They held each other for a number of minutes, but eventually they separated. Jenny held her arms out and up towards him.

"Honey, your dad is hurt." Sarah stated.

"It's okay." Phil smiled at his wife. Gingerly he leaned down and picked his daughter up and she wrapped her arms around his neck. It hurt his broken ribs, but he didn't care in the slightest. He'd deal with the pain later.

Agent Brooks came over. Picking up Phil's bag and the drawing, Brooks held them both and said, "Sir, I'll take you home now if you're ready. We've already taken your cars back to your house. And your house is ready too. We took care of everything you'll need for the next few days."

Phil looked around and saw Patch, Jenny's service dog, being held by his leash by one of the agents. The dog was lying on the floor, snout resting on his forelegs, watching the family interaction.

"What about Raven?" Marissa asked in regards to the family cat.

"He's back at the house already. But from what I've been told, Raven became a bit of a mascot back at headquarters. Most people didn't want to see him leave." Brooks told the girl. He reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out an I-1 ID badge. He handed it to Marissa. Phil heard his daughters giggle and looking at the badge he saw it was a standard I-1 badge, with Raven's picture, name, and paw print in place of a fingerprint. "Someone even made Raven his own security badge."

Brooks looked at Phil. "There's two agents waiting at your home till we get there."

"Thank you." Phil nodded. "Once you drop us off, I want you to go home and take some time off."

"Yes, Sir." The African-American man replied officially.

Looking around, he saw Roberts and Altine heading out while Dugger and Velk had gone back to the plane with the other agents.

Glancing at the faces of his family, Phil asked, "You all ready to go?"

When he received a trio of nods and 'yes' responses, he smiled and said, "Same here. Let's go home."

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Jonny's heart skipped a beat when the view of the Quest family mansion appeared beyond the trees that overhung the driveway. Two vehicles had been waiting at the private airstrip to transport the family back to home and Jonny had chosen to ride with his dad, Hadji, and Jessie. The other vehicle held Race and Estella.

He was still itching for a fix and hadn't forgotten about the pills he'd seen Race take back on the plane, but he'd have to bide his time and get creative if he wanted to get his hands on them.

The ground was covered in a layer of soft snow and the sun was rising behind the house, illuminating the scene in a peaceful glow of deep red and orange. Jonny couldn't remember the last time he'd watched the sun rise with such beauty and peace. It almost made him forget the pains that were wracking his body from the withdrawals.

"You okay?" Jessie asked softly. Jonny was seated between her and Hadji. His father was up front and an I-1 agent was driving.

"Yeah, I think so." Jonny answered to get his mind off the drugs. "I feel like I'm seeing this place for the first time."

"A peaceful serenity accompanied by the fresh snow indicative of new beginnings." Hadji stated.

Jonny nodded as his brother's words, remembering how Hadji always seemed to say the right thing at the right time.

The vehicle pulled up to the house. Doors opened and Jonny stepped out just as the second vehicle arrived.

He glanced towards it for a moment then back to the house as the front door opened. A man in a suit stepped out, his arms carrying a strange bundle. Jonny tensed.

"It's okay, Jonny." Jessie reassured.

Blinking Jonny forced himself to relax, realizing the man was an I-1 agent. Leaning down, the man dropped the bundle and Jonny discovered it wasn't a bundle at all. It was Bandit. The little bulldog bounded through the snow, making a beeline straight for his master.

Jonny found himself smiling and leaned down to scoop the dog up into his arms. Bandit yipped happily, licking Jonny's face and eventually squirming to indicate he wanted to be set down. Jonny complied with the dog's request and watched as Bandit ran excitedly back and forth in the snow, barking and yapping, his little tail wagging. The dog moved between the familiar faces, but eventually returned to Jonny's feet, barking excitedly and happily.

Jonny heard the other car shut off and the doors open and close. He eyed Race carefully as the drivers and the man at the door moved to Bannon. Jonny listened to the conversation.

"All is safe here, Sir. We conducted our final sweeps and logged everything in our databanks and IRIS."

"Good work, guys." Race said. "What orders were you given for our arrival?"

"That's up to you, Sir." The man from the door replied. "We can stay or you can relieve us of our duties. Director Corbin told us to take our direction from you in that regard."

"Okay," Race was nodding. Jonny kept listening.

"Get your people ready to depart. Give me ten minutes and if everything is kosher I'll relieve you and let the Director know."

"Yes, Sir." The man replied. Jonny watched the agent nod to his men and the trio stepped away from the family members. The one in charge pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt and speaking into it, more than likely recalling the rest of the team to join them in the driveway.

"You ready to go inside?"

Jonny's attention was pulled away from observing Race and the other men by his father's question. Looking at the man, Jonny struggled with the look he saw in his father's eyes. He was concerned, overly so, but he was trying to appear normal and Jonny knew it was for his benefit. He imagined the days and weeks ahead would be filled with much of the same.

"Sure, dad." Jonny mumbled.

Jessie and Hadji were at his side and they followed behind Benton, Bandit jumping through the snow as well.

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The house was silent. Too silent. It had never occurred to Jonny how he'd been surrounded by constant noise while he was with Temple and The Consortium. The castle had always been a flurry of activity and even his times away from the hideout had been filled with a plethora of sounds and other sensory stimulants. Greg was never one to be very quiet, unless he had needed to be.

Jonny found he was actually missing his time with Temple. It had been a huge shock to Jonny's mind, going from constant activity and action, to nothing.

Quietly, he climbed out of bed, pulling on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt. Making his way out of his room, he was a bit surprised there wasn't a guard posted outside his bedroom door, but then he remembered that the I-1 agents had all departed.

But Jonny knew he couldn't leave the house. He'd overheard his father and Race speaking that Jonny's access codes to the security system had been deleted. Race had convinced Benton that it was for Jonny's own safety.

 _Still a prisoner. In my own home._

With a frown, Jonny made his way downstairs. Scratching his arms as he walked, he just wanted something to help him sleep. To sleep without dreams.

The layout of his home had come back to him almost immediately and making his way through the darkened house was not a problem. Within a few minutes he found himself standing outside the door to Race's office. Glancing about to ensure he was still alone, he tried to the door handle and found it was unlocked. That caught him off guard, he'd have assumed Race would have locked the office.

 _An oversight? Doesn't matter._

Stepping inside, he went and clicked on the lamp that sat on Race's desk. It had been a long time since Jonny had been in this room and he took a moment to study his bodyguard's private space. Looking about the desk, there were no folders or papers strewn about and the laptop Race used was turned off. Turning, Jonny looked at plagues, pictures and mementos Race had on display. Numerous awards and citations hung on the wall from Race's time with the Navy SEALs, Intelligence One, and even from Quest Enterprises. His eyes stopped on one of Race's shadow boxes from the military, the low light gleaming slightly on the golden Trident in the box, the symbol of the Navy SEALs. Jonny smirked a little and moved on.

He perused the pictures that hung on the wall and was a bit disappointed to see that Temple was in none of them. Whatever the true fallout between the two men had been, Race had obviously taken it personally and had chosen to remove any remembrances of Temple from his life. Jonny found the thought disheartening.

 _Whatever._

Moving away from the desk, Jonny went to the other side of the room to the decorative cabinet that sat in one of the corners. Kneeling down, he opened it and his eyes lit up when he discovered what he was looking for.

Grabbing the first bottle, Jonny screwed the cap off and upturned the glass container to his lips. The brown liquor burned as it went down, but that didn't stop him. Only when he needed air did Jonny turn the bottle of whiskey downward.

Wiping a hand across his lips, Jonny went to take another drink when the lights of the office clicked on.

He didn't turn, didn't react. He just waited, knowing he was caught.

"I knew I should have locked this room." Race stated.

Keeping the bottle in hand, Jonny rose. With a sigh, he slowly turned to face the bodyguard. Race stepped into the room and shut the door. He was dressed only in sweat pants and Jonny saw the healing scars on the man's body; scars from where the bullets Jonny had fired entered Race's torso. Race had either not gone to sleep at all or had been awoken by Jonny's movements through the house.

"Why didn't you then?" Jonny challenged.

"You really think you need that?" Race motioned with his eyes to the bottle in Jonny's hand.

Jonny shrugged. "It's not a matter of need. I wanted a drink."

"Really?" Race asked, but Jonny noted his tone had softened a bit.

"Yeah. Is there going to be a problem with that?"

"You're going through withdrawals." Race shook his head. "I guess this is my fault."

Jonny sneered, "Don't do that. Don't patronize me, Bannon. I can make my own decisions. I'll replace it if that's what's bothering you."

"You think I care about a thirty dollar bottle of whiskey?" Race asked. "I care about you, Jonny. I should have made sure you didn't have access to this stuff."

Jonny set the bottle down on top of the wooden liquor cabinet. "I'm going back to sleep. Not much else I can do around here, you know since I can't even go outside."

"Stop it, Jonny," Race stated firmly. "We're not your enemy."

"I don't want to talk about this." Jonny shot back. "I don't want to hear you say that Temple was the real enemy. I don't want to hear your shit, Race."

"What did he do to you, kid?"

"He showed me that type of man I can be."

"No he didn't." Race answered softly.

"I don't care what you think." Jonny sneered, suddenly feeling the need to get away as fast as possible.

"You should, Jonny. You can't escape this. Sooner or later you and I need to address what happened. What caused you to do what you did."

He'd heard enough. Moving briskly, Jonny made his way towards the door, brushing roughly against Race as he reached for the handle. Race turned from the nudge, but reached out and grabbed Jonny by the shoulder.

"Let go of me." Jonny growled.

"Listen to me, Jonny, and listen good. I'm going to do whatever I can to help you get better. I promised you that. You can resist me and fight me all you want, but I know the real you is in there. Not the Jonny I see right now. The Jonny that wants to be just like Greg Temple."

"He was a good man."

"No, he wasn't, Jonny. He really wasn't. But that's not what this is going to be about. You have a house full of people wanting to be with you, to help you. The most important being Jessie, my daughter. Treat me as horribly as you want during this, but if I find you mistreating her,"

"What?" Jonny cut in. "You'll what? You'll kill me? Isn't that the typical daddy threat? Hurt my daughter and I'll kill you?"

Race shook his head at that and let go. Jonny didn't wait for the man to respond. Throwing the door open, he stormed out into the hallway, heading back towards this room. When he reached the door, he stopped.

Jessie was standing there. He forced himself not to roll his eyes. He imagined the whole damn house was awake now.

Lowering his head, Jonny pushed by the redhead.

"Jonny?"

Stopping, his shoulders sagged heavily. He didn't look back at her when he said, "I'm tired, Jess. Just leave me alone for right now, okay?"

"Jonny, I-"

Turning, he looked her in the eyes and barked, "Just leave me alone!"

He didn't let her respond. Slamming the door shut, he leaned his back against the door. His hands curled into fists and he banged the sides of his skull. Anger engulfed him, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly who he was truly angry with; Jessie? Race? Temple? Himself? He just didn't know anymore.

Through the door he heard Jessie's voice. "I'm here for you, Hotshot. No matter what."

He cringed at the nickname and he fought the desire to throw the door open and remind her not to call him that. But he didn't. He just waited silently, breathing throwing his nostrils. Eventually he heard her footsteps receding and within seconds all was silent in the Quest Mansion once again.

Moving away from the door, but locking it before he did, Jonny went back to the bed and threw himself down on top of it. Pressing his eyes shut, he buried his face in the comforter and cried.

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 **The End**

 **Of Part 2**


End file.
